


A Little Unwell

by allfordean



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Blood, Hallucinations, M/M, Physical Abuse, Psychosis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-07 16:02:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 22,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allfordean/pseuds/allfordean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil Palmer is a patient in a mental institution, living in a world in his mind that he calls "Night Vale". Carlos is the new psychiatrist that Cecil falls in love with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my Welcome To Night Vale headcanons... pretty far fetched, perhaps, but I thought it'd make for a good AU. Eventual Cecilos, but it won't be getting smutty.

_-PROLOGUE-_

Cecil Palmer was only 19 years old when his mother noticed there was definitely something not right about her son. He'd graduated from high school with honors a year before, in 1997, but had refused any and all opportunities to attend the various universities that sent him offers in the mail. At first, Tracy wrote this off as her son wanting to be independent, refusing a higher education and claiming he was perfectly capable of learning things by himself. But when July of 1998 came around and Cecil couldn't hold down a job long enough to be able to live on his own, the single mother became concerned. She'd asked her son why he'd been fired from the various jobs, and each time he'd nonchalantly explain that his boss deemed him "distracted", "obsessive", or "delusional". One even went so far as to tell him he was "just plain odd". Tracy never pressed the issue. She never had time to, as Cecil would retreat to his room, and begin talking to himself, sometimes quite loudly. Her son had always had a habit of thinking out loud, but Ms. Palmer knew it was getting a bit more extreme.

Tracy wanted to hint at Cecil getting a job one evening, placing their conservative dinner of macaroni and cheese on the table. The truth was, she didn't make enough money to properly support two people. Working full-time at their neighborhood supermarket, she could really use Cecil's help. But she didn't get the chance to say anything before Cecil sat down and looked up at her, beaming.

"I have some exciting news, Mother!" Cecil announced cheerily as his mother took a seat across from him. He didn't wait for her to ask before gushing, "I've been promoted!"

Tracy looked up at her son, eyes narrowing. "Oh? At... at what job?"

Cecil couldn't stop beaming. "The radio station! I know what you're thinking. I've only been with the station for, well, less than a year. But, they listened to some of my recordings, considered my ideas, and they've given me a show! Wanna know what it's called?"

"I..."

"'Welcome to Night Vale'," Cecil said in a deep voice, his face only serious for a few seconds before that blissful smile returned. "Can you believe it?! I get to run what's going to be the biggest... I'm the new voice of the town!"

It took Ms. Palmer a few moments to process her son's words. "...We live in Seattle," she finally said, searching Cecil's face for a sign that this was some silly joke.

Shaking his head, the enthusiastic teen chuckled at his mother. "Mom, don't be silly, now. You know we're in Night Vale, the nicest little desert town you could ever-"

"You were born and raised in Washington, Cecil!" Ms. Palmer was holding back tears, her heart sinking deeper into her chest as she shouted at her startled son.

"How could... How could you say that?" Cecil whispered, looking up at his mother with a scowl. " _How could you say that_?!"

At Cecil's increasingly angry tone, Tracy stood from the table and fled to her room where she could have a panic attack without worrying her already upset son.

When the pressure in her chest finally let up, she crawled into her bed and prayed Cecil would be normal the next day. 

* * *

" _Nowhere is safe. Not your house. Not your local supermarket. Not even your own mind. Welcome to Night Vale._

  
_We have some strange news, listeners. You may have noticed, it's been raining in our dear desert city. Members of Night Vale's Inexplicable Desert Rainfall Research Team have sent in reports, which I am, unfortunately, prohibited from sharing with you, or even knowing about, myself._ "

Ms. Palmer tuned out, setting her son's tape recorder down as she dropped to a seat on Cecil's bed. She'd sent him to get groceries so she could search his room for what she'd hoped would contain some sign of sanity from her son. What she'd found, instead, were dozens of tapes containing nonsense about some surreal desert town that didn't exist.

One week later, Cecil Palmer had a scheduled appointment with a psychiatrist. This wasn't completely against his will, as he'd agreed to go to make his mother happy, and to prove that he was, he assured her, "perfectly sane".

"How long has he been doing this?" the psychiatrist, Mrs. Hayes, asked as she took off her headphones and set the cassette tape player on her desk.

"The first tape dates back to September of last year," Ms. Palmer provided, adding quickly when the other woman widened her eyes, "but they weren't as bad as the more recent ones." Tracy followed the psychiatrist's glance toward Cecil, sitting patiently in the waiting room, hands in his lap. "He's never been violent. He'd never hurt anyone. But...," she looked down.

"But you're sensing that he might?" Mrs. Hayes offered.

"No, no," Tracy said quickly. "No. I just... he can't hold down a job. And now, he thinks he already has one. I don't know what to do with him. I can't afford..." She began to cry.

Reaching across the desk, the psychiatrist placed a hand on Ms. Palmer's shaking shoulder. "I'm going to prescribe your son some medication," she said. "It can take a few weeks to do its job, or he may not respond to antipsychotics. We'll discuss that when and if we get there."

 

Cecil refused to take the medication at first, adamant that he didn't need it. Ms. Palmer finally tricked him into taking it, hiding it in his food for a week before insisting that he take it willingly.

Everything seemed fine for the first two weeks. Tracy never heard her son talking to himself in his room, and she began to believe it was all okay again.

Then, 4 days into the third week, Cecil's mother was awakened by a blood-curdling scream. She rushed into her son's room, flipping on the light only to be greeted with the sight of Cecil hunched over on the floor, cradling his side. Deep red blood was trickling down his hands and darkening his Seattle Mariners t-shirt.

"I... I thought," he strained to explain through clenched teeth. "I thought I was one of the 53 percent." He sucked in a pained breath as his mother dropped to his side, assessing the wound. "One of the ones without pain-sensing nerves."

"What were you  _thinking_?!" Tracy shouted through distressed tears, glancing at a bloody kitchen knife by Cecil's legs. She reached for the phone on his bedside table.

"There was... a potentially fatal growth...," Cecil said. "Had to... cut it off."

Tracy held her son until the ambulance arrived, too shocked to say anything besides whispering, "It's gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine. It's okay."

 

"I'm glad to see he's doing alright," the hospital's psychiatrist said, standing beside a sleeping Cecil's bed.

Ms. Palmer looked up from where she sat in the chair next to her son. She nodded at the man. "It was a deep wound, but they say it will heal in time." She sounded exhausted, her worried eyes distant and dark.

"You said he was on an antipsychotic?" the psychiatrist asked.

"Hm? Oh. Yes. It was supposed to be working right by now, but..."

"Your son doesn't seem to respond to medication, Mrs. Palmer," the man said solemnly.

"Ms. Palmer," Tracy muttered. "It's Ms. Palmer. He's... he's all I have." She turned to look at her son, holding back tears as she whispered, "What else is there to do?"

* * *

_-ONE MONTH LATER-_

"Please, please don't leave me here, Mom!" Cecil was sobbing, reaching desperately for his mother's arm as the orderlies held him back. "Let me go," he shouted, twisting and turning out of their grip. "Mom!" He managed to free himself and ran toward his mother, who turned around and embraced him while he clung to her tightly.

"P-please don't leave me here," he whispered, yelping when more of the hospital staff came to grip his arms.

"I love you, Cecil," Ms. Palmer said in a broken whisper, unable to meet her son's eyes. "I'll visit you, I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The whole fic won't be this depressing, I promise. I apologize for any and all incorrectness regarding mental institutions. I'm doing research but there's a lot I just won't be able to know. So. Bear with me, if you will. Actually, any and all help, suggestions, and reviews would be appreciated.


	2. First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What about him?" Carlos asked, gesturing to the open door of a man who sat silently on his bed. He looked to be about Carlos' age, with wavy blonde hair that contrasted nicely with his bright blue eyes, not that Carlos noticed. He estimated that the man was about 5'11", two inches taller than himself. He had good posture, his lanky form sitting cross-legged on his bed, hands in his lap. He was staring at the wall across from him.
> 
> "That's Cecil," Steve said. "Weirdest one here."

_-15 YEARS LATER-_

It was Carlos' first day on the job.

He'd been hassled in the past few years by family and friends for his decision to ditch his career as a research scientist and return to college. But Carlos didn't care what they thought. And now, at 36, he was ready to take a job as a psychiatrist at a mental institution in Washington. He'd always been interested in how the mind works, and, no longer finding meaning or excitement in his scientific yet illustrious career, he deemed it acceptable to put his time and effort into an area of study he'd actually enjoy. And he didn't quit his job blindly. He had a plan. After about a year of working firsthand with patients suffering from psychosis, Carlos would write a book or two about his studies and be set for life. It was a perfectly logical plan, he thought. He didn't care much about the money, he was already pretty well off. Hell, he could have retired young and comfortable if he'd waited about 5 years. But this wasn't about achieving an eventual rich, luxurious lifestyle. This was about expanding the mind and contributing to society.

And it began today.

 

Carlos woke promptly at 6:00 a.m., disabling his standard alarm buzzer not even five seconds after it rang and rubbing his eyes, blinking in the dark, shaded room. He was dressed in under 10 minutes, exchanging his flannel pajamas for what was going to be his daily outfit for the next few years: standard business attire and a white coat. Carlos vaguely recalled hearing that most psychiatrists dressed somewhat casually, but, he wanted to be professional. He poured himself a bowl of Multi Grain Cheerios and ate breakfast at the small table in his 2 bedroom apartment.

For a bachelor, he didn't have a particularly desirable taste in style. He knew most would deem him "dull", with his black, silver, and purple decor patterns. But he didn't really care. It helped him think. Too much color would be distracting. He smiled softly at the sun shining in through his window, getting up to wash his bowl and put it away. Remembering he'd be dealing with patients in various mental states, Carlos practiced smiling as kindly and calmly as possible. He contemplated bringing a journal to take notes for his book, but didn't have time when he looked at the clock.

Living in the city had seemed like a good idea at the time he'd moved, getting a "fresh start" after making a career change, but it put him 20 minutes from the hospital, and Carlos needed to be there at 7:15 a.m., exactly. This was not a good day to be late. Not that the scientist believed  _any_  day was a good day to be late. He hopped into his car at 6:57 a.m., stressed about the time.  ** _  
_**

Carlos apologized when he arrived at the psychiatric hospital 8 minutes late. "There's no excuse," he told his boss. "I left a few minutes late, and hit every red light on the w-"

"Calm down, kid," the older man said with a smirk. "Head on over to the recreation room, pronto. Someone'll give you a tour."

Carlos nodded and excused himself, walking silently down the hall.

"To the left," his boss said.

"Right, sorry," the new employee mumbled, shaking his head as he turned around.

* * *

"This is Josie," an orderly named Steve said. He pointed at a woman who was sitting at a table, coloring a dark figure with what Carlos determined to be wings. "Crazy old bitch thinks she sees angels."

Carlos frowned at his fellow employee's disrespect, following as the 40-something already gray Caucasian man walked to the end of the recreation room.

He pointed to an older man who sat alone, mumbling something that sounded like a chant in another language. "Boris," Steve said, "thinks he's an Indian."

Nodding, Carlos figured that the orderly meant Native American, judging by the drawings Boris' was sketching on various sheets of paper, and Steve's apparent incompetence.

"End of tour." Steve faced Carlos with a dull expression, walking out of the recreation room and into a hallway. Carlos followed, stopping upon noticing a patient's room near the end of the hall.

"What about him?" Carlos asked, gesturing to the open door of a man who sat silently on his bed. He looked to be about Carlos' age, with wavy blonde hair that contrasted nicely with his bright blue eyes, not that Carlos noticed. He estimated that the man was about 5'11", two inches taller than himself. He had good posture, his lanky form sitting cross-legged on his bed, hands in his lap. He was staring at the wall across from him.

"That's Cecil," Steve said. "Weirdest one here."

Cecil looked up at the mention of his name, scowling at Steve before he noticed the new psychiatrist standing beside him. His eyes brightened as they swept over Carlos' body. Cecil smiled, taking in the man's dark, curly hair, which dangled loosely around his ears. He met Carlos' big, brown eyes and grinned dumbly. Carlos smiled back, then turned to Steve.

"Alright," he said. "Now what?"

Steve snorted. "Now the fun begins." He forced a three-ring binder into the scientist's hands. "You get to study all their files and 'socialize'."

Carlos nodded, absently opening the binder and pulling out Cecil's file. He looked up, and, upon noticing that Steve had left him, walked toward Cecil Palmer's room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so, originally Carlos was gonna be a nurse, but I thought he'd get more personal with Cecil if he was a psychiatrist. So. Again, any tips on writing or any corrections over what I've said regarding psychiatric hospitals are welcome.


	3. And I Fell in Love Instantly

Cecil's heart raced as he watched the new psychiatrist approach his room. The man knocked on the outside of the wall lightly.

"Mind if I come in?" he asked lightheartedly, a small smile gracing his strong-featured face.

"Uh-uh," Cecil managed to say, if only in an airy mumble.

"I'm Carlos," the man said, taking a seat in the chair across from Cecil after shaking his hand briefly. "I'm your new psychiatrist."

"Uh-huh," Cecil said, leaning forward a bit and resting his chin on his hands. He blinked a few times, then shook his head. "I'm Cecil."

Carlos nodded, looking down at the file in his hands. "I'm sorry," he said, meeting Cecil's gaze, "I probably shouldn't be reading this in front of you."

The patient smiled knowingly. "I'm aware of my condition." He looked down for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. "Most of the time," he mumbled.

"What's that?"

Cecil's face reddened as he looked back up at the man. "I've learned to recognize hallucinations when I see them. Like... the floating cat in the bathroom," he chuckled. "I know it's not real. But... sometimes I have 'episodes'," he said, using air quotes.

Carlos leaned forward with interest. "What happens during these episodes?"

"Well... I'm not really there, you know?" Cecil shrugged. "I don't remember. But I'm told that I," he deepened his voice, "put on a news radio voice and talk about 'Night Vale'."

"'Night Vale'?" Carlos glanced down at the patient's file, as if expecting to find clarification.

Looking at the barred window to his right, Cecil nodded. "Some creepy town my subconscious created. Sometimes I actually see things from there, even not during an episode. But I can usually tell it's a hallucination."

"You say there's a," Carlos looked back up, "floating cat in your bathroom?"

Cecil chuckled, biting his lip as he avoided eye contact with the man. "Yeah. His, uh... his name is Khoshekh, I guess... He's actually a pretty recent addition to my hallucinations."

Carlos hummed, searching Cecil's file for any further explanation. "So, besides all that," he said as he closed the binder, "you're pretty normal?"

Cecil liked that it didn't sound like a question. He smiled. "Mostly." It felt like a lie. He knew that, yeah, okay, besides the psychotic episodes, he was a sane guy. Which Cecil thought was a ridiculous claim, considering, uh...  _psychotic episodes_. But even without them, he would never have called himself "normal". He'd always been a quirky kid, too loud and weird when he wasn't being introspectively silent. He'd learned early on in elementary school to keep his vivid imagination and speculative ideas to himself, but, even then, he had a hard time making friends. Cecil wondered if this meant that he'd been destined to be a schizophrenic, or if he was just a weird, unpopular little kid. Either way, he knew he had never been "normal". But, if  _Carlos_  wanted to think so, well, then, who was Cecil to correct him?

"So," Carlos said, "you don't respond to medication?"

"Unfortunately, no." Cecil leaned back, resting against the wall his bed was pushed up against. "I'm, uh... kinda stuck in here, since... I have no one to take care of me. No one to make sure I don't do any harm." The patient glanced down at his hands in his lap, thinning his lips.

"No... family?"

Cecil shook his head. "My mother passed away just a few months after I was admitted. I have no other family..."

"And you can never leave because...?" Carlos shifted in his seat, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

"Because I might hurt myself... or someone else, I guess." Cecil looked down, uncomfortable, worried that the new psychiatrist would write him off as a freak.  _You're in a psychiatric hospital, Cecil,_  his negative mind reminded,  _you_ are  _a freak, and you've got no chance with this guy_. Cecil tried to ignore the part of him that put him down, but, it was hard to, this time. "I was brought here because I tried to chop an imaginary growth off of myself. I lost a lot of blood..."

Carlos nodded, reading what Cecil assumed was a more in-depth version of the story in his file. "Well, I'm glad you ended up okay, anyway."

"You mean besides..." Cecil gestured around the dull, safe room they sat in.

"Uh, right," Carlos said, an awkward chuckle following the silence.

Cecil clenched his jaw.  _You're making him uncomfortable, Cecil..._  "Sorry, I, uh... It's not so bad, here," he lied. He sat up, his face brightening as he looked back up at Carlos. "And now that  _you're_  here, I'm sure it'll get even better!"

Chuckling, Carlos stood. "Well, I don't know about that." Cecil could swear the man had started to blush. "Anyway, it was nice meeting you, Cecil. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other quite often from now on."

The man left before Cecil could say much else than "bye". He watched Carlos leave, a grin creeping onto his face as he decided that he very much approved of the latest addition to the staff.


	4. Being Professional

"So," Steve asked, "how's freakshow doing?"

"I'm sorry?" Carlos frowned at the orderly, having just exited Cecil's room. He clung to his folder, on his way to greet the other patients.

"That Cecil, he's quite a character, isn't he?"

"I didn't talk to him for long. He seems fine-"

"Oh, you just wait 'til he does his thing," Steve laughed, leaning lazily against the wall. "Freaky little guy."

Shaking his head, Carlos brushed past his co-worker. "I don't wish to discuss this with you. Excuse me." He decided he really did  _not_  like Steve Carlsberg.

 

It was only ten minutes later that Carlos heard shouting from a hallway across from his compact office. He looked up from his desk, paperwork and patient files scattered messily, and stood when he heard a young woman shouting for help.

Making his way down the hall as quickly as possible, he met the girl in a patient's room and shouted for orderlies to restrain the man, who was clawing at them as though he was under attack. Soon, Steve and another orderly named Telly had the patient secured.

"Are you alright?" Carlos asked the young woman.

"Yeah, I'll be alright. I'm Dana, I'm an interning nurse here." Dana extended a hand with a youthful grin.

"Carlos, I'm the new psychiatrist." He turned and walked out of the room with Dana following closely behind.

"That's great! How are you liking the job so far?"

"It's been… interesting," Carlos answered. He gestured to Cecil's door as they walked by. "How much do you know about this one?"

Dana smiled, waving at Cecil, who waved back. She continued to the end of the hall, then stopped. "He's a bit odd."

"But not completely insane?"

"He… well, take yesterday for instance. He was going on and on about some 'dog park'," Dana explained. "He says we can't go there, and that there are 'hooded figures' that are dangerous, or something."

Carlos frowned. "During an episode, you mean? When he thinks he's on a news radio show...?"

Dana shook her head. "He knew he wasn't in a studio," she revealed, "but... he was convinced that I was interning there and that I needed to be careful."

"I thought his episodes were limited to the news radio... That is, I mean... He told me he knew about his condition, and the episodes...?"

"He does… he just has episodes more than he realizes." The corners of Dana's lips turned down as she looked at the floor. "He's a really sweet guy, but… he has no idea how often he's not really all here, if you know what I mean."

Nodding, Carlos began walking back toward his office. "I see. Thank you, uh…"

"Dana."

"Dana, right. Sorry," Carlos said. "I'll be seeing you, then."

 

Once back at his desk, Carlos retrieved a notebook from his bag and took a deep breath, using his teeth to pull off the cap of his pen.

"Has… more… episodes… than aware of," he mumbled as he scribbled down notes on his paper. Sighing, Carlos pursed his lips and leaned forward in his chair. He pulled his reading glasses out of his coat pocket, squinting before putting them on. "Doesn't… always... occur at-"

"Hi, uhm, Carlos?"

Carlos lifted his head to find the very patient he was taking notes on, standing in his doorway. "Oh," he said, "you're… out of your room." Setting his pen down, the psychiatrist nodded and gestured to the empty chair at his desk. "Come on in and sit down, Cecil."

Quick to obey, Cecil scurried over to the seat, bumping into the desk and blushing. "Sorry, uhm..."

"Is there a reason you came to see me?" Carlos asked, seemingly oblivious to the patient's awkwardness. He hid his notes under other files on the desk.

Biting his lip, Cecil smiled. "I... wanted to see you again before you left."

"I won't be leaving until 4 o'clock," Carlos said, glancing at the watch on his wrist. "That's in 7 hours and 24 minutes..."

Cecil beamed. "You work until 4? Every day?! You'll be here for 8 hours and... 45 minutes?  _Every day_?!"

"Uh, yes... Is there something you wanted to talk to me about, Cecil?"

"Youhaveperfecthair," the patient blurted out.

A small smile graced the psychiatrist's lips for a moment. "Thank you," he said. "Is... is that all?"

Cecil was blushing, biting his tongue as he shook his head. "N-no, I, uhm... why are you here?"

"I work here..."

Chuckling nervously, Cecil leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "I know, I mean... why?"

Carlos shrugged, glancing down at the files on his desk to make sure there was nothing the patient shouldn't see. "I became interested in psychology."

"So... you weren't a psychiatrist before?"

"I was a research scientist. I studied-"

"I like science!"

"...That's... good." Carlos sat up straighter in his chair, deciding this conversation was heading nowhere. "If you don't have anything to discuss with me, Cecil, I really must get back to my paperwork."

Glancing away, Cecil shook his head and moved to stand up. "Right, right. Sorry."

"That's alright," Carlos said. "I'll see you tomorrow, Cecil. We'll talk more in depth, then." He paused, looking thoughtfully at the man who stood before him. "And... try and think of something... relevant to say the next time we meet, yeah?"

"Oh, sure," Cecil nodded, backing away slowly. "S-sorry... I... I'll see you tomorrow," the patient mumbled as he exited the office, closing the door on his way out.

Carlos frowned, shuffling through his files to find the notepad he'd been writing on earlier. He picked up his pen once more and made note of Cecil's behavior. "Doesn't always occur at... news radio... station...," he mumbled as he wrote. Tearing off the page, he flipped the paper. "Is also... awkward... and..." Carlos stopped writing, biting the end of his pen as he replayed the scene in his head. He thinned his lips, crossing out his words before setting the pen down. "He was just being friendly," the psychiatrist whispered. A thought arose that Cecil had been a little  _too_  friendly, but Carlos quickly dismissed the idea as he shook his head. He cursed himself for being so stoic, so "professional".  _That's not what this job is about_ , he reminded himself. Patients would open up to him more if he treated them as  _friends_ , not patients. He'd had that concept drilled into him countless times in med school.

Being friendly was something Carlos had always struggled with, even as a child. It wasn't that he wasn't  _nice_ , he just... had trouble connecting to people. He was too logical, and he knew that. One of the reasons he'd become so interested in the human mind was his own social ineptitude. He knew he could change, and that it was something he should work on, but... he was so curious, so eager to study and learn, that he didn't care much about his personal relationships. But, these subjects weren't inanimate objects to be studied, anymore. Now, he was dealing with people. Carlos realized that the study of the human mind would greatly involve the human heart.  _Well,_ figurative _heart_ , he corrected himself.

He sighed, turning his attention back to his notepad. He was going to do better next time, he decided. He hoped.


	5. Father

Cecil got about 4 hours of sleep, racking his brain for a decent conversation subject the next day. By the time his door unlocked and opened, he was already up and at it again.

"My father!" he finally shouted, startling another patient who had been walking past his room.

"I'm not your father," the man said defensively. "I'm nobody's father!"

Blushing, Cecil leaned over the edge of his bed to look at the other patient. "John! I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"You are my son?" John asked, marching closer to Cecil's room.

"No," Cecil said. "John, you don't have a son. I mean, I don't  _think_  you have a son. If you  _did_ , I wouldn't be him."

"I am not your father."

"Right. You're not my father. You're not related to me in any way."

Looking hopelessly at the younger man, John's voice wavered. "Then what am I?"

"Um... a farmer?" Cecil offered.

John nodded. "Yes. Yes, that's right! I am John Peters. I'm a farmer."

"Alright, now, on your way, John Peters the Farmer," Cecil encouraged, climbing out of bed and guiding the man to the hallway. "Wouldn't wanna miss breakfast, would we?"

"Of course not, son." John smiled and walked a little faster, leaving Cecil standing quietly in his doorway.

"Not your son!" Cecil said. He quieted his voice and walked back to his bed, sitting so that his legs dangled over the edge. "My father. They always ask about your father." Standing with an eager grin, Cecil took off toward Carlos' office.

"Hey, Cecil!" Dana called as he passed the cafeteria. "Aren't you gonna have breakfast?"

Stopping for only a moment, the patient informed the kind young nurse that he was "about to see Carlos!" and took off again.

"I see where your priorities are…," Dana mumbled before returning her attention to another patient.

Carlos was sitting at his desk when Cecil arrived.

"Um, hi."

The psychiatrist looked up when he heard the other man, standing in his doorway with his long arms at his side. "Oh, hey, Cecil. What is it?"

Taking a few steps into the room, Cecil grinned. "Want to know about my father?"

Carlos raised an eyebrow, then let out a light chuckle as he leaned back in his chair. "Right. Well, Cecil, we're supposed to be meeting every day, as you know..."

Cecil nodded.

"...But I have other patients to meet with, as well. There needs to be a schedule, you see."

Biting his lip, Cecil looked down. "I see." He was  _not_  jealous of the other patients, he was  _not_.

"I can meet with you every day at 11:00 in the morning," Carlos said. "Sound good?"

Cecil nodded eagerly. "Of course! I'll… see you then!"

"Yeah, so hold on to that thought about your father, got it?" the psychiatrist called as Cecil stepped backed toward the door.

"Got it!"

 

When Carlos finally got around to Cecil's room, he was startled to find the patient standing near his bathroom sink, moving his hand as though he were petting the air there.

"Um, Cecil?"

The man didn't move, save his continuous petting.

"...Cecil."

Nothing.

"Cecil!"

Finally turning around, Cecil's face dropped as he realized the psychiatrist had witnessed his behavior.

"What… uh, what were you doing?" Carlos asked, ushering the man out of the bathroom.

Cecil avoided eye contact as he took a seat on his bed. "I, uh… there was a cat."

"A cat?" Carlos asked, sitting across from the patient. He shifted uncomfortably in the firm, ugly green chair. "A cat in mid-air?"

Nodding, Cecil bit his lip. "I… may have been hallucinating." He wrung his hands together nervously.  _I am so weird,_ he told himself. _I have no chance..._

"Clearly." The psychiatrist frowned, then shook his head. "Anyway… you wanted to tell me about your father?"

Cecil perked up, finally making eye contact with the other man.  _Good, moving on_. "I don't remember him," he grinned.

"Is… is this a good thing?"

Shrugging, Cecil said, "Well, I don't remember him, so, it's hard to say if he would have been a good memory or not."

Chuckling, Carlos nodded. "This is true." He got out a pen and opened his notebook. "Do you wish you'd known your father?"

"My mother said we didn't need him, so-"

"But what do  _you_  think?"

"Well, doesn't every child need a father?"

"That's a common belief, yes."

"But… what do  _you_  think?" Cecil smirked.

Setting his pen down, Carlos leaned forward in his chair. "I think growing up without a father figure can pose various problems for an individual, especially later in life," he said. "But I doubt it would cause a, uh…"

"Mental illness?" Cecil offered, scooting back on his bed until he could lean against the wall.

"Well, yes."

Smiling, Cecil nodded and crossed his arms. "I figured."

"Then why did you want to talk about your father?"

"Because… because that's what psychiatrists like to talk about." He sat up, uncrossing his arms and looking into the other man's brown, bespectacled eyes. "Right?"

"I think that stereotype pertains more to psychologists."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Carlos glanced at the watch on his wrist.

"So… how long do we get?"

"Pardon?"

"Our daily meetings," Cecil said. "How long are they?"

"Oh. Half an hour?"

A small smile crept onto the patients face. "You don't know?"

"I'm a bit disorganized as of late," Carlos admitted. "I'll get everything figured out eventually."

"Not everything is meant to be figured out," Cecil said, his voice deepening.

"A profound observation, indeed," Carlos said, prompting the smile on Cecil's face to spread into a grin.

Cecil's grin faded, his heart leaping in his chest as he watched the other man stare at him. His breathing deepened as he looked back at Carlos.  _He's looking at me. He's_ looking _at me_. It ended all too soon as Carlos stood from his chair.

"I must apologize for my disorganization," the psychiatrist said. "I'm not sure half an hour is necessary, especially since we seem to have nothing further to talk about."

Shaking his head quickly, Cecil stood. "No, no, no! It's okay! We can, uh, I can think of someth-"

"Cecil."

"Yes?"

"I have paperwork to do, and I need to figure out a schedule." Carlos offered a small smile to the discouraged patient. "I'll see you around?"

Nodding, Cecil averted his gaze to the floor as Carlos exited the room. His solemn expression vanished not even ten seconds later as his radio persona took over and he sat in his chair, beginning his next broadcast.


	6. Tired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil narrowed his eyes, biting his tongue for a moment before concluding, "So… We're like a science project for you, then. An experiment."
> 
> Eyes widening, the psychiatrist shook his head. "No, no! It's not like that, Cecil, I just-"
> 
> "Thank you for taking the time to talk with me, Doctor," Cecil said tensely, standing from his chair and pushing it into the desk, watching as Carlos flinched when it hit his knee. "Sorry," he said plainly, turning toward the door.

It took Carlos a few weeks to get his schedule figured out. Once he had it down, he was visiting patients from 8am to 12pm every day, taking a 20 minute lunch break, and in his office until four.

At approximately 2:35 every afternoon, Cecil would pop in and ask a question, make a comment, or warn him to "stay out of the dog park". Carlos would gently remind the patient that his session had ended at 11:15am, and that "there is no dog park near this facility."

"I'm sorry," Cecil said quickly one day. He had been a patient of Carlos' for about 3 months at this point, and the psychiatrist was only just beginning to grasp the sporadic intensity that Cecil's hallucinations were capable of having.

"It's alright, Cecil," Carlos said, leaning forward in his chair. He reached across his desk to pull out a seat for the patient. "Did you have something you wanted to talk about?"

Fidgeting with his arm a moment before sitting down, Cecil nodded. "Actually, yes, come to think of it." He chewed on his bottom lip and brought his gaze up to the curious psychiatrist's. "I want to know more about you."

"I'm sorry?"

"Well, you're always asking questions and finding things out about  _me_ …," Cecil said. "I just want to try interrogating  _you_  for a change."

Carlos chuckled and adjusted his glasses. "Alright, fair enough," he said. "You have five minutes. What do you want to know?"

Before Cecil could even open his mouth, there was a knock on the door.

"Dr. Carlos?" Dana's voice was small but urgent as she stood just outside the door frame. "Mr. Harlan wants to see you in his office."

Nodding, Carlos stood and shot Cecil an apologetic smile. "Stay here, I'll be back shortly."

"Boss more important than me?" the patient joked, raising an eyebrow.

"Only a little," Carlos replied as he made his way out of the room.

With no one to keep him company but himself, Cecil slipped back into Night Vale. He switched chairs, picking up a pen Carlos had left on the desk and tapping it on a notebook. He put the pen in his mouth and looked up at the ceiling for a moment, leaning back in his chair.

"It's time for a little history lesson, listeners," he announced to the walls. "This week is Night Vale's history week, as I'm sure you kn-"

Cecil leaned too far back in the chair and found himself hitting the floor just as Carlos was reentering the office.

"Cecil!" The psychiatrist rushed to his side, lifting him up. "Are you alright?!"

The patient blinked a few times before shaking his head. "I'm… I'm fine."

"What were you doing in my chair?"

As he stood, Cecil looked anywhere but at Carlos. "I, um… I think I was having, uh…"

"An episode?" Carlos sighed. "It's okay, Cecil. You don't have to be ashamed of it."

"I'm sorry," the patient mumbled. He met Carlos' gaze and half-smiled. "So, what did the boss want?"

With a lopsided smile, Carlos shook his head and ushered Cecil back to his chair. "It was nothing," he said. "Just a scheduling error."

"Should I not be here right now?"

"No, no," the psychiatrist said quickly. "No, you're fine. What was it you wanted to talk about?"

Cecil beamed, relaxing in his chair opposite Carlos. "I wanted to ask you about yourself."

"Right, right." Carlos smiled. "I'll answer a few questions- within reason," he said pointedly, earning a smirk from the patient, "and then I'll have to send you on your way, okay?"

Cecil nodded eagerly.

"First question?"

Clearing his throat, Cecil hoped he wasn't blushing too hard as he asked, "How long have you wanted to be a psychiatrist?"

"Well," Carlos began, "I didn't really consider the idea until a few years ago. I was a research scientist at the time-"

"I remember you said that the first day we met! And I told you 'I like science'," Cecil grinned.

With a light chuckle, Carlos nodded. "I know. Me, too. But, I was always more interested in the human mind and how it operates… specifically under mental illnesses and-"

"Wait, so… you're here because you think being screwed up in the head is interesting?" Cecil raised a skeptical brow, his grin fading into a frown.

"Well, not exactly…," Carlos proceeded cautiously. "I want to learn all I can about psychosis, and write about my studies… Um… I mean, yeah, I find it interesting… but… I don't mean to be… insensitive… or anything."

Cecil narrowed his eyes, biting his tongue for a moment before concluding, "So… We're like a science project for you, then. An experiment."

Eyes widening, the psychiatrist shook his head. "No, no! It's not like that, Cecil, I just-"

"Thank you for taking the time to talk with me, Doctor," Cecil said tensely, standing from his chair and pushing it into the desk, watching as Carlos flinched when it hit his knee. "Sorry," he said plainly, turning toward the door.

"Cecil!" Carlos scrambled to get out of his chair and catch the patient by the arm. "Cecil, please. Please listen. I don't see you as a science project, alright?"

Cecil looked Carlos dead in the eye. "No?" He pulled away from the man's grip and folded his arms over his chest. "Just part of your job, then?"

Sighing, Carlos closed his eyes. "Damn it, Cecil," he muttered, earning a surprised look from the patient, who'd never heard the generally calm and reserved man curse. "There's a certain amount of professionality that I am expected to maintain with patients. Surely you must know that."

"I don't know," Cecil said, lifting a hand to gesture at his head. "Are you sure I'm capable of really thinking all that well?"

"Cecil!" Carlos scolded. "What is wrong? Really? Why are you being so touchy today?!"

"I'm tired of being seen as a freak!" Cecil shouted, clenching his fists and blinking back the hot tears that threatened to stream down his reddened cheeks. "I'm just tired," he whispered, hanging his head. He sucked in a deep breath as he felt the other man's arms wrap around him and pull him close.

"I don't see you as a freak, Cecil," the psychiatrist said softly. "I'm sorry I offended you. I don't want you to think that you're nothing more than a patient to me."

Cecil sniffled against Carlos' shoulder and lifted his head, drawing his eyebrows together. "But… I thought you had to be professional? I'm not supposed to be anything more than a p-"

"Perhaps. But, Cecil, I enjoy our time together. I want to be considered your friend, not the intrusive brain doctor who asks a lot of questions."

The patient blinked. "Why would you want to be my friend? I'm not great company. I'm not even all  _here_  half the time."

Stepping away from the man, who seemed to be regaining composure, Carlos shook his head. "You're better company than anyone else in the building, Cecil. And there's so much that I don't understand about the other patients, that you're so willing to help me with…"

"So, I'm useful," Cecil said with a lopsided smile.

"More than that, Cecil. You're enthusiastic. You're kind. Which is more than I can say for some of the staff here."

"Like Steve," the patient muttered.

Carlos chuckled. "Yes, like Steve."

"He's an asshole."

"Yeah. I figured that out my first day on the job," Carlos said. "He's very disrespectful."

"You've no idea," Cecil whispered, looking down.

"Hm?"

"What?" Cecil looked up and blinked a few times. "Nothing, nevermind." He smiled and gestured to the door behind him with his thumb. "I should go, shouldn't I?"

Carlos smiled and gave the patient a small nod. "I do have paperwork to get done before I leave."

"Alright," Cecil said, turning and taking a few steps towards the door before facing the psychiatrist once more. "Carlos?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you. For putting up with me."

"I don't 'put up' with you, Cecil. And I want you to know that I'm here for you, if you're ever feeling like that again."

"Because that's what  _friends_  do?" the patient asked, though it was more of a contented statement than a question.

Carlos smiled. "Right."

Cecil made his way out of the office, the goofy grin not leaving his face as he called out a "good bye" and walked in a daze back to his room.

 _Friends_ , he thought, taking a seat on his bed.  _That's something, isn't it?_  Cecil bit his lip as the smile broadened on his face.  _He must like me. I think he likes me._  He sat there pondering just how  _much_  he might like him for a good couple of hours, hugging his pillow as he daydreamed about Carlos. Carlos' hair. Carlos' eyes. Carlos' lips…

"What are you grinnin' about, freak?"

Cecil lifted his head, his grin twisting into a scowl as he was met with the sight of Steve Carlsberg.

"Please, don't-"

"Shut up, you stupid piece of shit." The orderly curled his hands into fists, and Cecil's happiness faded until the image of Carlos was gone and all he could feel was despair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will have a somewhat brief but serious summary of the physical abuse that followed this scene. I planned to do this all along with Steve but I was hesitant to get too graphic. So, I haven't written the next chapter yet but it will most likely contain some amount of violence.
> 
> Sorry for the pain. This is a drama, after all. After that chapter, it should get a bit happier.


	7. He's Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains brief descriptions of physical abuse.

Carlos arrived at work the next day and went about his usual business. It wasn’t until 11:03 that morning that he noticed the absence of Cecil Palmer. The patient arrived at his office promptly at 10:59 every day. He was late. “Excuse me,” the psychiatrist called as a nurse passed by.

“Yes?” Dana paused and backtracked to his doorway.

Gesturing at the clock on the wall opposite him, Carlos asked, “Have you seen Cecil? He’s a few minutes late and that’s unlike him.”

“Oh, you haven’t heard…” Dana’s voice trailed off quietly as she bit her lip and averted her gaze to the floor. “Cecil was taken to a padded cell last night.”

Carlos’ eyebrows shot up in shock. “What?! Why?”

“Steve says he attacked him. Went crazy, I guess.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t sound like Cecil, but… I don’t know why Steve would lie about it.”

Nodding slowly, Carlos stood from his desk and adjusted his glasses. “Can you take me to him? I’d like to see him.”

The young intern smiled warmly. “He’s just down the hall, to the left,” she pointed. “I’m sorry, I just have things to do, you know-”

“Oh, that’s alright. I’ve got it. Thank you for informing me… Dana.”

“No problem! I hope you can help him,” she said as she continued down the hall, “he really doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to be in a padded cell.”

When Carlos entered the cell, he found his patient strapped down and assumed him to be sleeping. Upon closer inspection, he noticed tear stains on Cecil’s cheeks, and a light bruise below his left eye. He wouldn’t have caught the bruise if it hadn’t been for the makeup on the area that was caking off. Cecil began to stir and Carlos stepped back. “What happened to your eye?” he asked as the patient blinked awake.

“W-what?” Cecil squinted under the flourescent lighting. He attempted to bring his arm up to shield his eyes but found it stuck, tied down beside him. He groaned in annoyance and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Cecil, it looks like someone hit you and tried to cover it up,” Carlos began sadly. “Is that what happened?”

Biting his lip, the patient turned his head away from Carlos. “I… I can’t-”

“Cecil, it’s okay. Tell me the truth, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

There was a moment of silence before Cecil hesitated. “Steve… Steve beat me.”

“What?!” Carlos’ heart sank as he shouted. He’d suspected, but he had really hoped his coworker was above this.

“Shh! Please,” Cecil panicked, turning to glare at the psychiatrist, “don’t tell anyone. He’ll make it worse next time, and I-”

“There is _not_ going to be a next time, Cecil,” the psychiatrist said through gritted teeth. His fists clenched as he took a deep breath. “Steve Carlsberg won’t be working here much longer.”

Cecil blinked, eyes wide. “What are you going to do?”

“The bastard is going to prison!” Carlos shouted. He took a deep breath and calmed down. "I'm sorry, you shouldn't see me angry." He began freeing the patient from his restraints. “You also shouldn't have to deal with the sort of shit that Steve put you through. Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

“But I-”

“I don’t care if they saw fit to put you in here, Cecil, clearly they were wrong and I’m going to take care of this.” The psychiatrist eyed his patient warily. “Did… Are there any other bruises or marks?”

As he sat up and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, Cecil tugged down his sleeve to reveal a deep purple bruise on his right shoulder.

Carlos released the breath he’d been holding and nodded numbly. “I see… Has this happened more than once?”

Cecil adjusted his sleeve and nodded. “About a month after he started working here.”

“And when was that?”

“Two years ago.”

“Oh, Cecil…”

Straightening himself as he stood, Cecil frowned. “Don’t pity me, Carlos.” He offered a half-smile and shrugged, “I don’t mean to be rude, I just… I don’t need it.”

Carlos shook his head and looked away. “No, of course not. But, rest assured, I will take care of this.” He gestured for the patient to exit the room. “Let’s get you to a nurse and I’ll make sure you never see Steve Carlsberg again.”

* * *

 

“Cecil?” Carlos stepped into the patient’s room and smiled warmly. “Are you feeling better?”

Nodding, Cecil stood from where he’d been resting on his bed. “Is he gone?”

“He’s gone.”

Cecil beamed, reaching out his arms and pulling the psychiatrist into a tight hug before Carlos could object. “Thank you.” He kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, Carlos.”

When Cecil released him from his embrace, Carlos blinked, his mouth open as he backed away. “Uh, Cecil…”

“Was that too forward?” the patient asked earnestly.

Playing with the curly locks of hair near his neck, Carlos said, “Well, taking into consideration the fact that any amount of ‘forwardness’ is unacceptable in a patient/doctor relationship, yes.”

“Oh.” Cecil looked down, blushing as he slid his foot back and forth on the floor. “I’m sorry.”

Taking a breath, Carlos patted Cecil on the back gently. “It’s alright, Cecil… Just… be careful with that sort of stuff here.”

“Of course!” The patient nudged Carlos in the side playfully. “Wouldn’t want to get you fired.” He stepped back and widened his eyes in fear. “Was that OK?”

Carlos chuckled. “I’m sure that was fine, Cecil.” He smiled as he turned slowly toward the door. “I have a few things to do, but after that I’ll go with you to give the police a statement.” He paused, giving the patient a sympathetic look. “Are you… Are you ready to talk about it?”

“I’ll be fine. Anything I can do to put that bastard behind bars is like the best form of therapy.” Cecil grinned. “And thank you for coming with me.”

“No problem,” Carlos said. “I’ll come get you when it’s time. Just rest for now. Be careful with that shoulder.”

“Carlos.”

“Hm?”

Cecil chuckled. “I’m fine. It’s just a bruise.”

Carlos smiled warmly. “Alright.”

“Okay. Now get to work!”

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it!”

“And Carlos?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

The smile that the psychiatrist gave as he nodded and said it was “no problem” warmed Cecil’s heart as he rested on his bed, finally feeling secure in what, for years, had felt like a prison.


	8. Friend?

After giving the police his statement, Cecil turned to Carlos and nodded at one of the windows on the other side of the hall. "It's nice out today, isn't it?"

"I suppose it is, for Seattle. It's not raining."

Cecil smirked. "Keen observation, Science Man."

Chuckling, Carlos shook his head and shrugged. "What can I say?"

"You can say 'let's go outside, Cecil,'" the patient hinted.

Narrowing his eyes, Carlos' lips fell to a frown. "You… you aren't allowed-"

"Can't you get permission? Please?" Cecil put his arms behind his back and swayed where he stood, putting on his best pout. "I've had a rough day…"

"Cecil…"

"Aw, come on, Carlos! I haven't left this building… since I arrived. I just want to go outside."

Carlos glanced around, as though he'd be fired if anyone caught him just  _thinking_  of accommodating the patient. "I…" He sighed, offering the pleading man half a smile. "I'll see what I can do."

"Yes!"

"But no promises, Cecil. I'm not in ch-"

"No promises, got it. I won't get my hopes up," Cecil said. His grin indicated that perhaps he'd already gotten his hopes up, and Carlos found himself determined to get the guy a day out on the town.

His boss, however, was less enthusiastic about the idea. Carlos tried his best to produce a convincing argument for his patient. "Well, sir, I just think it may be good for-"

"He is not allowed to leave," Mr. Harlan stated.

"Would you mind if I ask why?"

"It isn't your place to ask why."

"I just don't see how it could be a problem. He'd be with me, I'd keep an eye on him. He-"

"He could slip into his little world and-"

"And what? Act a bit odd? Draw attention to himself? What is the worst that could happen, really?"

The older man pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "That question only serves to make me stand firmer with my decision."

"Could we… consider it for another time, sir?" Carlos asked. "I'd like to be able to offer him some sort of hope on the issue."

Mr. Harlan gave the psychiatrist a sympathetic smile and took a deep breath. "We won't rule out the possibility. Tell him we're 'saving it for a rainy day'."

Cecil, of course, was quick to point out that, in Seattle, nearly every day was a rainy day.

"You know what I mean, Cecil." Carlos tried to encourage the patient with a smile, but was feeling too much like shit to do a good job with it.

"It's… it's alright," Cecil sighed. "You  _did_  say 'no promises'."

Carlos nodded. "That I did."

"Well, I guess I'll just hang out in my room for the rest of the day, then."

"Cecil…"

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

Cecil blushed, averting his gaze to the floor as he backed up in the direction of his room. "It's alright. It's not your fault. You're… you're a good… uhm, psychiatrist."

Suppressing a light chuckle, Carlos nodded and gave the patient a smile. "Thanks, Cecil. You have a good day, okay?"

With a grin, Cecil turned toward his room and stated, "I will."

 _Mr. Harlan had better make good on his promise_ , Carlos decided. There would be a rainy day at some point, and he was going to fight for his friend's right to leave the damn hospital.  _Wait... friend?_   _Patient_ , he corrected himself.  _He's just a patient. And he deserves a day out._


	9. A Rainy Day

A few months passed before that rainy day came around. Cecil had bonded to Carlos even more in that time, and the psychiatrist began to feel that the doctor/patient relationship was becoming more of a… friendship. Or something. Each time he caught himself thinking of the patient as a friend, he was conflicted. Because, if he allowed the lines to blur between a professional relationship and a friendship, he feared he might begin to blur the lines between that and… something more.

When he made a surprising discovery about Cecil's past, he, as a friend, wanted to tell him. But, as the man's psychiatrist, he deemed it a bad idea.

Cecil, of course, knowing Carlos well enough to sense when he's hiding something from him, pressed the issue.

"C'mon, Carlos," the patient whined, sitting across from Carlos at the psychiatrist's desk and throwing his head back dramatically. "I know you're not telling me something."

With a sigh, Carlos shook his head and frowned down at his paperwork. "No, Cecil. It wouldn't do you any good."

Cecil sat up straight and reached across the table. "Please?" he begged, taking the other man's hand. "I'll leave you alone to do your paperwork as soon as you tell me, I promise."

"You know," Carlos said, pulling his hand away from the patient, "I could always make you leave, anyway. You aren't really supposed to be here outside of your scheduled time."

Rolling his eyes, Cecil grinned. " _That_ is _definitely_ a rule you follow closely. You're so right."

Carlos bit back the small smile that began to pull at the corner of his mouth and tried to focus on the files in front of him. "Shut up," he laughed under his breath. Looking up at the patient, Carlos gave Cecil a sympathetic smile. "I don't want to see you hurt, alright? You've already lost your mother…"

"Just tell me," the other man groaned. "I can handle it."

"You're sure?" Carlos asked, raising a skeptical brow.

Cecil's expression faded from annoyed to serious as he nodded. "If there's something I don't know about… about my life, or… or my mom's…," he sighed. "It's my right to know about it."

"You…," Carlos took a deep breath, closing his eyes and shaking his head slightly as he collected himself. "You had a brother."

Blinking, Cecil straightened up in his seat. "What?"

"Your mother gave birth to her second son, barely two years after you were born," Carlos explained. "She couldn't… There was just no way for her to be able to provide for the both of you, with her income, so… she gave him up for adoption."

Cecil was silent for a few moments, looking down and nodding to himself before he glanced back up at the concerned psychiatrist. "Is… Can I meet him?"

Carlos grimaced and looked away. "It was a closed adoption," he said. "When I found the files about your mother and discovered that you weren't an only child, I…," he sighed, "believe me, Cecil, I tried. But there's just no way-"

"It's alright," Cecil said, eyes distant and beginning to water. Carlos thought the sight alone was breaking his heart, but it was nothing compared to what the patient said next. "It's my fault."

"What?" Carlos frowned, searching Cecil's face as though he could discern where that train of thought had come from.

"If she hadn't… If I wasn't born, I mean… She could hardly afford to take care of herself, when I was around. Maybe that's why she died. She got sick, or so they told me…," Cecil's cheeks were wet, and Carlos could tell he was barely restraining himself from sobbing. The patient looked up and whispered, "She had to take me here because she couldn't take care of the both of us." His expression darkened for a moment as he pounded his fist on the desk, startling Carlos. "And she died anyway. She visited me _twice_ , Carlos," Cecil snapped. "It's not…," he began to sniffle as Carlos stood from his chair and moved to the other side of the desk, putting an arm around him. "It's not fair."

"I know," Carlos comforted, pulling the patient, his _friend_ , into a hug. "It wasn't your fault, Cecil," he said. "None of it was."

Cecil clung to the psychiatrist for a minute before letting out a bitter chuckle and shaking his head. "Well, I was wrong," he said as he pulled away and looked up at Carlos, his eyes red and puffy. "I guess I can't handle it."

Thinning his lips, Carlos narrowed his eyes and nodded quickly before leaving Cecil's side and walking to the door. "I'll be right back, Cecil," he said, before the patient could ask where he was going. "Hold on."

Carlos hurried straight to his boss's office, opening the door with a firm hand and stating, "I am taking Cecil Palmer out today."

Mr. Harlan spun around in his chair to face his employee, raising a brow. "Oh?"

"Yes," Carlos said through gritted teeth. "It's a hell of a rainy day. It's pouring."

"Actually, the weather's quite nice," the older man said, leaning back in his chair and glancing out the window pointedly. "And if you'd like to take Cecil on a day trip, I suggest you put in a request at least one week prior to-"

"No, I'm not asking," Carlos said, surprising both himself and his boss. He shook his head and sighed. "Look, I'm his psychiatrist, am I not? I'm here to help him. And I'm… I'm prescribing him a day out. I'll be with him the entire time."

Mr. Harlan heaved a deep sigh and glanced down at his hands in his lap, then nodded and waved Carlos to the door in a shooing motion. "Fine," he said, watching as the psychiatrist turned to leave. "And, Carlos?"

"Yes, sir?"

" _Don't_ talk to me that way again, understand?"

With a shy nod, Carlos mumbled, "Yes, sir." As soon as he left the room, a wide grin spread across his face. _That was exhilarating_ , he thought of his aggressive behavior, and marched back into his own office.

Cecil had pretty much recovered from his previous weeping, and frowned up at Carlos upon his return before smiling along with the man. "What?" he asked, lifting a brow.

"Grab your coat, Cecil, we're going out."

"You don't mean…"

"I _do_ mean," Carlos beamed, grabbing his keys from his desk and shoving them into his coat and taking Cecil's hand to help him to his feet. "What do you want for lunch?"

"Oh my God," Cecil practically squealed into Carlos' ear as he pulled him into a hug. "Really? Seriously?"

"Seriously," Carlos smiled, trying desperately to ignore the way his heart pounded in his chest.

Cecil grinned even as he left Carlos' embrace, but a look of uncertainty crossed his face and the psychiatrist caught it before he tried to hide it.

"What?"

Holding his hands sheepishly behind his back, Cecil glanced down at his apparel. "It'll look weird, going out looking like-"

"Hey," Carlos interrupted, taking his coat off and walking behind Cecil to drape it over his shoulders. "It's okay. It's fine."

Cecil's cheeks flushed as he slipped his arms into the coat and he put on a goofy smile as Carlos led him out to the back exit.

"Oh," Carlos said, turning to the patient, "I need my keys."

Cecil shoved his hands in the pockets and pulled the keys out of the right one, placing them in Carlos' hand and taking a deep, shaky breath when the psychiatrist opened the door.

It wasn't as though he hadn't seen the sun in years; there was an outdoor area in the hospital. But it was closed off, and he couldn't even see the bakery he knew existed across the street. For the past 15 years or so, all he'd had to go on about the outside world were the sounds and smells that drifted over the walls.

Carlos turned and smiled at the wide-eyed man and led him to his car, opening the passenger side door for him.

"So," the psychiatrist said upon getting in the car and putting on his seatbelt, "any idea where you want to go?"

"There's a… a bakery, I think," Cecil said, putting on his own seatbelt and looking up at the other man. "Um, right across from the front of the hospital."

Carlos raised his eyebrows and smiled at Cecil as he started the car. "There is," he confirmed. "How'd you know?"

Cecil tapped his nose with a purposely dorky expression and said, "I could smell it."

Chuckling, Carlos backed out of the parking space and made the quick drive to the bakery. "I've actually never been here," he said after he opened the car door for Cecil, which, the more he thought about it, was probably an unnecessary and more-than-friendly gesture.

"Neither have I," Cecil joked, smiling when Carlos shut the door and began walking to the entrance. The patient paused just before they reached the door, and Carlos stopped to turn to him with an inquisitive stare. "I just… I haven't been out since I was-"

"It's okay, Cecil," Carlos assured him, walking back to his side and gently taking his hand. "We're just going to walk in, sit down, and eat. You don't even have to say anything at the register, just tell me what you want and I'll get it."

Cecil blinked quickly and looked away from the psychiatrist. "Oh, I hadn't even thought of that."

"What?"

"You… having to buy me things, since I have nothing. I… I'm sorry."

Carlos smiled warmly and tugged lightly at Cecil's hand. "It's alright. I want to do this for you. Come on."

With a deep breath, Cecil nodded with a shy smile and followed Carlos into the bakery. He breathed in the scent and sighed. "This is amazing!"

Carlos let out a light chuckle as they walked to the register and gestured at the breads and pastries behind the glass. "See anything you want?"

Licking his lips, Cecil peered down at the food. "Wheat and wheat by-products are…" he began, trailing off as an annoyed look formed on his face.

"Um, what was that about wheat?" Carlos asked.

"Sorry, it's a… I guess it's a Night Vale thing," Cecil mumbled. "I got confused."

"That's alright, Cecil." The psychiatrist was suddenly reminded that he was just that, a _psychiatrist_ , and Cecil was his _patient_. He sighed and let go of the other man's hand upon realizing he had still been holding it. "Wheat is perfectly fine," he said. He quickly added, "Unless you're allergic. But, you have no known allergies."

Cecil laughed a little louder than Carlos deemed necessary and looked back down, pointing at a pastry that appeared to have some sort of berry filling. "I'll have that, then."

Carlos nodded, glancing around for a cashier. "Um…"

"Excuse me?" Cecil called, standing on his tippy-toes and peering over the counter. He smiled when a young man emerged from the kitchen. "Hello, we'd like to purchase, or," Cecil turned to Carlos, " _he'd_ like to purchase, since I'm kind of permanently broke, that pastry right there and…"

"Uh, I'll have that sesame seed bagel," Carlos spoke up. He was pretty sure he saw Cecil roll his eyes at his plain choices, and smiled to himself when Cecil nodded and led him to the register.

"That'll be nine ninety-eight," the cashier said, his voice dull as he looked up and gave Cecil a forced smile. He took Carlos' money and dropped his phony expression. "Have a nice day," he mumbled.

"Rude," Cecil said under his breath as he took the bag from the boy and walked away from the register, turning to Carlos. "Where are we eating this?"

"We can eat here, if you want, or…"

"Or?" Cecil said, raising a brow as the corner of his mouth twitched.

"Or there's a park nearby, we could walk around there, if you want-"

"I want," Cecil sang, grabbing Carlos' hand and practically running out the door. "Are we going to walk or drive there?"

Carlos smiled softly at Cecil's eagerness and nodded to the corner of the street. "It's just a few blocks in that direction," he said. "We can eat while we walk, and then get a drink at the coffee shop once we get there."

"Alright," Cecil said, pulling Carlos' bagel out of the bag and handing it to him, a skip in his step as they made their way down the street.

After a few minutes, when Carlos could no longer handle the endearing glances Cecil kept shooting at him, the psychiatrist said, "I'm somewhat surprised that you ordered for us like that. You seemed so nervous just moments before."

Cecil shrugged with a smile as he bit into his pastry. "I like people," he said, covering his mouth and giggling at his impaired speech. "Sorry," he said once he swallowed. "I like people," he repeated, "but I've been with the same ones for nearly half my life. So, I guess I was suddenly excited to talk to someone new."

Carlos nodded, chewing slowly on his food as he looked at the ground.

"That guy was a jerk, though," Cecil said, shaking his head and smiling when Carlos couldn't help but chuckle. "But I'm sure he was just having a bad day. Poor guy's stuck in that bakery all the time. I know how that feels."

"You never let it affect your attitude, though," Carlos said pointedly.

"That's true, most of the time." Cecil smiled. "Just because you're stuck in an unpleasant situation doesn't give you the right to whine about it." He widened his eyes at Carlos, which made the psychiatrist smile, as he added quickly, "My situation isn't all that unpleasant, though."

"No?" Carlos asked, mentally preparing himself for another moment in which Cecil gushes about how much he likes him. He did it quite often, and, while it'd made him somewhat uncomfortable at first, it was starting to grow on him. Cecil, himself, had grown on him. But that was exactly the kind of circumstance he was trying to avoid.

"No, because I get to see you pretty much every day."

Cecil was beaming when Carlos looked up at him, and the psychiatrist couldn't help but blush. "Ah," he said dumbly, falling silent until they reached the corner of the park.

"We're here!" Cecil cheered.

"Yes, we are," Carlos said, taking the bag from the patient and dropping it into a nearby trash can. He pointed up at the coffee shop across the street. "Want something to drink?"

Cecil nodded eagerly. "I haven't had coffee in years."

"Well, we're sticking to caffeine-free, just in case, alright?" Carlos threw an arm out in front of Cecil to keep him from crossing the street. "Light's red."

"My protector," Cecil said, bringing the back of his hand to his forehead in a feigned fainting motion.

Carlos elected to ignore that, only removing his arm when the walk signal flashed across the street.

Cecil ordered a blended berry drink, and Carlos asked him if he had a thing for berries. The patient shrugged. "My mom used to make me berry smoothies, or get berries to go on ice cream," he explained. "Y'know, when we had money…"

Carlos' heart sank and he quickly changed the subject as they walked outside, spotting a small theater at the corner of the block. "Would you like to see a movie?" he asked, immediately regretting it. _Date_ , he thought, _that is going to sound like a date to him_. _Even to_ me _, it sounds like a date_. He winced.

"Are you kidding me?" Cecil asked, eyes wide and hopeful when he followed Carlos' gaze to the theater. "Of course!" He sipped loudly on his drink and took the psychiatrist's hand, taking off toward their destination.

Carlos cursed himself all the way there.

"Ooh, how about that one?" Cecil asked, pointing to a movie poster for some romantic comedy he'd never heard of.

Carlos cursed himself even _more_ as he sighed and nodded. He frowned at Cecil when the man snuck their drinks into the theater under his coat. Cecil had held a finger up to his lips and giggled.

"Wow, there's hardly anyone here," Cecil said, peering over the seats in the darkened theater before turning to Carlos with a smile. "Where should we sit? Ooh!" The patient once again grabbed Carlos' hand, which didn't even shock him anymore, and led him down to a row just a few above the middle one. "These are always the best seats," he said, "I remember."

Carlos smiled softly and sat beside the man and took his drink from him. "Thanks," he whispered. "I actually haven't been to a theater in a few years."

"I think I beat you by about a decade, though," Cecil teased quietly, and Carlos snapped his jaw shut. "Oh, relax, Carlos, don't feel bad about it."

Luckily, the previews started at that moment, preventing Carlos from having to respond as he leaned back in his seat and sucked in a deep breath. Movies weren't particularly his thing. He'd always found books to be more interesting. The subject matter of the film didn't help his nerves, either, and, about halfway through it, Cecil put his arm around the psychiatrist. He didn't stop him, didn't shrug away, didn't tell him to move. He just tensed in his seat and counted the minutes to the end of the movie.

"That was such a cute movie," Cecil beamed as they exited the theater. "Wasn't it?"

"Hm?" Carlos looked up from the ground and smiled. "Oh, yeah." He glanced down at his watch and frowned, tapping the glass with his finger. "Huh. My watch seems to have stopped working."

Cecil nudged the psychiatrist playfully in the arm. "So, you're saying time stops when I'm with you?" he chuckled.

Carlos laughed despite himself, nodding. "Sure," he said, pulling his phone out of his back pocket and checking the time. It was nearly four. Carlos suggested walking back to the park and sitting there for a while, and then grabbing an early dinner before returning to the hospital. Cecil, of course, eagerly agreed.

They talked mostly about Carlos, since Cecil wasn't exactly feeling up to talking about his childhood and the brother he never knew existed. Carlos answered most of Cecil's questions without hesitation, telling him about his family, ranting about his disapproving father for a few minutes before he remembered to be professional. When five o'clock came around, Carlos stood from the park bench they'd been seated on and gestured down the street. "We should really be getting back to the car."

"Assuming it didn't get towed, of course," Cecil said.

Carlos blinked. "I didn't even think of that."

They walked back to the bakery's parking lot and Carlos heaved a relieved sigh when he spotted his Prius.

"Could we… could we go to Arby's?" Cecil asked once they were buckled up.

"Sure," Carlos said. "May I ask why?"

"Mom used to take me there," Cecil said plainly.

Carlos closed his eyes and cursed himself for the hundredth time that evening before pulling out of the parking lot and using his GPS to find the nearest Arby's.

His boss called just as they arrived and demanded they return as soon as possible.

"What's wrong?" Cecil asked.

"Nothing's wrong, Cecil," Carlos sighed as he elected to use the drive-thru rather than go inside. "Mr. Harlan is just being…" He bit his tongue, rolling down his window and turning to ask Cecil what he wanted before ordering.

It was quiet on the drive back to the hospital. Carlos knew it saddened Cecil to have to return, especially when he knew the psychiatrist would be turning around to go back to his apartment almost as soon as he dropped him off.

"I really enjoyed today," Cecil said as Carlos pulled into his parking space. "Well, the second half of it, anyway."

"I'm sorry," Carlos said, shutting the car off and leaning back in his seat with a sigh.

"It's alright, it's not your fault!" Cecil bit his lip, and Carlos sucked in a breath, looking away. "I'm really glad we got to spend some time together, Carlos."

When Carlos looked back up at the man, Cecil was beaming at him, his eyes shining in the dim light of the street lamps, and his heart sped up. Before he could reason with himself not to, Carlos leaned over and kissed him. It was sweet, short, and soft, but enough to take the breath away from both of them. Carlos pulled away before Cecil could deepen the kiss, and gasped. "I… I'm sorry," he panicked. "I shouldn't have… I can't-"

"It's alright, Carlos," Cecil soothed, reaching out for the other man's face.

"No! No it's not!" Carlos leaned away from the patient's touch and unbuckling his seatbelt. "I'm your _psychiatrist_ , Cecil. This isn't… I can't… That can't happen again, and I'm sorry I did it." He took a deep breath. "I'm getting too close to you, Cecil. It's impacting my ability to remain professional and… and I think I'm going to request to be transferred to another-"

"You can't do that!" Cecil shouted, tears gathering in his eyes and Carlos had to look away to keep from tearing up along with him. "I need you. I need you here."

"I don't think I'm good for you, Cec-"

"You're the best thing that's happened to me in 15 years, Carlos! I haven't…," he sighed, his voice lowering to a broken whisper. "I haven't had an episode in months. I mean, I've hallucinated here and there, but I haven't… I've been doing okay, Carlos. Better than okay; I've been happy. Please… p-please don't take that away from me."

Carlos was on the verge of tears, his heart sinking deeper into his chest with each word that came out of Cecil's mouth. He took a few deep breaths and steadied himself before nodding. "Alright," he said. "Alright, Cecil. I'll stay. I'll stay." He didn't protest when Cecil leaned over and hugged him, pulling him close to his chest and heaving a huge sigh of relief against his shoulder. "But we need to establish boundaries, Cecil."

"Okay," Cecil muttered, nodding against Carlos' chest and sniffling. "Okay."

"For one thing," Carlos said, gently lifting Cecil's head and pushing him out of his arms, "we shouldn't be this close. Ever. Not because it's necessarily inappropriate, but because it-"

"It makes us want more." Cecil nodded, sitting up and wiping the tears from his cheeks with the sleeve of Carlos' coat. "I understand."

"I'm sorry, Cecil."

"I-it's alright," the patient mumbled. "I don't want you to get in trouble, Carlos. I don't want to lose you."

"You won't," Carlos assured him. "I promise, you won't."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was considerably longer than the last chapter! I actually got pretty into it. :)
> 
> I plan on updating the 15th of each month, so... let's hope I stick to that. There'll be a time late this summer/early this fall at which I might not have access to a computer, so we'll see how that works out. I'll go to a library if I have to, I suppose. -_-
> 
> Anywho, as always, reviews are much appreciated! :)


	10. Lauren

Cecil couldn't sleep after Carlos walked him back to his room and left. He was caught somewhere between wanting to dance because he'd finally kissed the man, and crying because it seemed as though it'd never happen again.

The next day, Cecil couldn't bring himself to visit his psychiatrist, knowing that his _psychiatrist_ was all Carlos was at that point. Carlos didn't stop by his room to check on him, the way he usually did when and if Cecil was ever late.

Three days passed, and there was still no sign of Carlos. Cecil stepped into Mr. Harlan's office to ensure that the psychiatrist hadn't quit.

"He's taking a break," the man said, only looking up from his paperwork for a moment before gesturing at the door. "He'll be back tomorrow, Cecil. He'll return to his regularly scheduled visits with you after that."

"Did he say why? I mean-"

"He said it was for 'personal reasons', and it isn't my place to ask further about it. Or yours. Now, if that's all… I have work to do Cecil."

Cecil nodded and turned toward the door. "Of course." He sat in his chair once he got back to his room. "Listeners," he began in his radio voice, "something extraordinary has happened." The patient was vaguely aware that a woman had entered his room, but failed to blink out of Night Vale. "I've kissed Carlos. The scientist, as you all know, is beautiful. Perfect in…," he bit his tongue, " _almost_ every way. But, he decided we can't-"

"Cecil?" The voice was cheerful, sweet, and suddenly closer to him. "May I join in for today's radio show?"

"Lauren Mallard," Cecil said bitterly, not bothering to look up from the floor he was staring at. "I know you. You're from Desert Bluffs."

Lauren narrowed her eyes, but her smile never faded. "I'm not sure what you mean, Cecil. I am an employee of the hospital, I work in the-"

"You hurt people."

"I would never hurt anyone, Cecil. I simply help with medication. At my most extreme, I sedate unruly patients," the woman explained. "But back to your report! What exactly has happened between you and your psych… scientist friend?"

Cecil couldn't help but smile. "Well, _listeners_ ," he began, making sure to emphasize that he was talking to the public of Night Vale, and definitely _not_ to Lauren, "we went on our first date! Now, I know what you're thinking, and you're right. It's about time!" Cecil sighed, shaking his head. "But, as I tried to tell you, before I was so rudely interrupted by Lauren, Carlos and I cannot be together. He thinks it's… I'm not sure what he thinks, listeners. But, I find solace in remembering our last night together. We were in his car, just about to leave, when, suddenly, he leaned over and _kissed_ me. I'd never been happier." Cecil was holding back tears, shifting uncomfortably in his chair as he whispered, "I'm not sure I'll ever be that happy again."

Lauren clenched her jaw, her smile nearly having faded into a glare as she snapped her fingers in front of Cecil's face. "Cecil, come on," she demanded. "Out of Night Vale. Now."

Blinking, Cecil took a deep breath and shook his head, rubbing his temples. "I'm sorry, I… I was-"

"Yes, I heard you."

Cecil looked up at Lauren, who stood in front of him with her arms crossed. "I don't remember what I said." He widened his eyes. "Was I talking about Carlos?"

Lauren was silent a moment before she squinted at the patient with a near smirk on her face. "You mentioned someone by that name, yes," she stated casually. "Must be another hallucination of yours."

"He's not a hallucination," Cecil said, shaking his head. "He's my psychiatrist."

Tilting her head, Lauren frowned. "Are you sure? You hallucinate all the time, Cecil."

Cecil's jaw dropped slightly as he stared, wide-eyed, at the nurse in front of him. "I-I've seen you talking with him! Of course he's real!" When Lauren did nothing more than glance upward and shake her head with a small smile, Cecil jumped up from his chair. "You were asking him to dinner just the other day! I _know_ you know him! You have to! He _has_ to be real!"

"Cecil," Lauren said in a harsh whisper. "Quiet down!"

"No! Tell me he's real! Tell me Carlos is real!" Cecil demanded. "I know he is! Stop lying! Why are you lying to me?!"

"Orderlies," Lauren shouted over her shoulder, not even moving from her spot as she smirked at the patient before her. Two men were at her side within seconds. "We need to restrain this patient immediately! He's become hysterical."

Cecil was biting back tears as his arms were suddenly being held behind his back. "Why are you doing this?" he asked as the orderlies took him away. "Lauren! Why are you doing this? Tell me he's real!"

The woman did nothing more than smile as she watched the patient leave the room. As soon as he was gone, she entered the hallway and headed the opposite direction, straight to Mr. Harlan's office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the shortness of this chapter. Next one will be longer, I promise!


	11. The Truth

Carlos was doing relatively well, he thought. It had been nearly four days since… _If you don't think about it, it'll go away,_ he told himself for the hundredth time that _day_. He was certain that if he just… didn't think about the kiss, or Cecil in general, he'd get over it and he could return to work. But, it was the evening before he his vacation was over, and he couldn't stop replaying the scene in his mind.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing. Frowning at the device, Carlos wondered who would be calling him at 8:56 p.m. on a Thursday. Or, just… at all. His heart pounded when he glanced at the caller ID and saw that it was his boss. He'd cleared his time off, right? He shouldn't be in any trouble…

"Hello?" Carlos all but whispered into the receiver.

" _You need to come into work immediately,"_ Mr. Harlan demanded, and, _crap_ , he sounded angry. " _I need to speak with you."_

Carlos gulped, nodding as he reached for his coat. "Of course," he said. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

"What in the _hell_ do you think we do here?" Mr. Harlan shouted at the psychiatrist as soon as he entered his office.

"I-I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand-"

"I've heard of doctors with unconventional methods, Carlos, but this… this is _unacceptable_!"

Carlos blinked a few times, his heart racing as he shook his head. _He knows_. "No, I… I-"

"I know what you did! Did you think you could get away with taking advantage of one of our patients?! Did you think no one would find out?!"

"Sir, I assure you, I didn't-"

"Don't make excuses for yourself! This is _inexcusable_!" The man was waving his arms around in anger, and Carlos thought that there was most likely a crowd outside the office, trying to peer in through the blind-covered windows. Mr. Harlan tried to calm himself down before taking a seat at his desk. "Cecil Palmer is ill. What in your right mind would make you think it was okay to shove him against your… against your car and stick your tongue down his throat?! What makes you think it's okay to do that to _anyone_? You _disgust_ me. But, lucky for you, I'm not going to alert the authorities. I can't afford another arrest amongst my employees," the man sighed. "What I _can_ do, however, is fire-"

"I'm sorry," Carlos interrupted with a frown, "you were exaggerating the situation, am I correct?"

Mr. Harlan glared at the psychiatrist. "Excuse me? You took Cecil to a secluded area, pushed him against you car, and forced him to kiss you before he begged you to take him back, did you not?"

Carlos looked his boss in the eye as he stated firmly, "That did _not_ happen." Shaking his head, the psychiatrist asked his boss, "Who told you that?"

"Lauren Mallard. She was walking by Cecil's room when she heard him crying, and he told her everything."

"I know her," Carlos said with a nod. "She seems to be infatuated with me," he sighed, shaking his head. "I kissed Cecil Palmer, I will admit to that. But it did _not_ happen that way. Lauren… Lauren must have found out about it, and, in jealous anger, twisted the truth to punish me for not reciprocating her feelings."

With a skeptic frown, Mr. Harlan asked, "How, exactly, did it happen, then? Spare no details. This is important, Carlos. The fate of your career rests in your answer."

Carlos nodded, taking a deep breath as he moved to sit across from his boss. "We were in the parking lot, at the end of the day we'd spent out together, when Cecil said something about how much he'd enjoyed being with me, and… and he was smiling at me. To tell the truth, sir, I'd been battling having, uh, romantic feelings for him for quite some time. But I was keeping it under control." Despite himself, Carlos chuckled, shaking his head. "That was, until he smiled at me like that, and he'd been holding my hand earlier that day, and I knew he… I knew he felt the same way about me, so I… I wasn't thinking, sir. Or, perhaps I was thinking too much. I kissed him. It was chaste, I assure you. And short. I didn't allow him to kiss me back, because I panicked almost as soon as our lips met."

"He wanted it to last longer?" Mr. Harlan asked, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Carlos almost pitied the man for having to learn about the situation in such detail.

"Yes. But I… I knew it was wrong. I pulled away, apologized, and… I told him I was going to request a transfer, because I couldn't handle my feelings for him any longer. But he begged me, sir. He said he hadn't had an intense episode in a long time, and that I helped him, somehow. He…" Carlos bit his lip, holding back tears as he continued, "He begged me not to leave, so I told him I wouldn't. But I needed a break."

"And that's why you requested time off," Mr. Harlan said, nodding. "Are you ready to return?"

Carlos let out a deep breath and shook his head. "I'm not sure I… I'm not sure I can. I just… I want to, but I can't pretend I don't have feelings for Cecil anymore. But if I leave… I worry his condition will worsen, due to stress."

"He's already had an outburst," Carlos' boss said. "He's been put in a padded cell for the night."

Widening his eyes, Carlos clenched his jaw. "What?! What happened?!"

"Lauren… You know what? I'm not sure he did anything, after all."

The sentence wasn't even out of Mr. Harlan's mouth before Carlos turned heel and exited the office, racing to the padded cell. He burst into the room, startling Cecil where he lay, and immediately moved to unfasten the patient's restraints. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath, "this shouldn't have happened again."

Cecil blinked up at the man, his eyes still adjusting to the light as tears ran down his cheeks. "Sh-she… She said you weren't real," he said weakly, and Carlos snapped his head up from the work of his hands, freeing Cecil as he frowned at him. "Please, Carlos, p-please tell me you're real."

Carlos breathed a deep sigh as he embraced the man. "I'm here," he soothed. "I'm real." He kissed a sobbing Cecil's forehead, rubbing his back gently. "Can't you feel me, Cecil? I'm real. I'm not leaving." Carlos frowned as he contemplated whether or not to admit… "I love you, Cecil." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, it felt all the more _real_ , and he _knew_ it was true. Furthermore, he knew he really couldn't stand to lose Cecil, and he'd do anything to keep that from happening. Carlos pulled the man closer to his chest and pressed another kiss to the top of his head.

The patient clung to his psychiatrist, weeping freely for a moment before he opened his eyes and looked over Carlos' shoulder to find the man's boss standing at the door. Mr. Harlan had his arms folded over his chest and was frowning at the pair, as if trying to discern his feelings on the situation. "I-I'm sorry," Cecil whispered, then cleared his throat and pulled away from Carlos. "I'm sorry I was so forward. I don't want Carlos to get fired," he said, and Carlos turned around to face his boss. "P-please don't fire him."

"I can't guarantee you anything, Cecil," Mr. Harlan said, choosing his words carefully as he made eye contact with his employee. "I think it's best if you stay for the time being. It wouldn't be fair to Cecil."

"And Lauren?" Carlos said, failing to hide his bitter tone. "She made Cecil doubt I was real."

Mr. Harlan's face tensed before he shot Cecil a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry she did that to you, Cecil. Carlos is real. He's not a hallucination, I can assure you of that."

Cecil nodded. "Are you going to fire Lauren?"

With a sigh, Mr. Harlan shook his head. "I don't know yet, Cecil. She seems to be quite aggressive when upset, and I don't want her to use the situation between you and Carlos against us."

Carlos, who'd been staring intently at the floor for the past few moments, thought aloud, "Maybe _we_ should leave."

"I'm sorry?" his boss asked.

Looking up, Carlos repeated, "Maybe we should leave. Cecil and I, I mean."

"Carlos, I'm insane."

" _Don't_ ever refer to yourself in that way," Carlos said firmly. "You are perfectly capable of existing outside of this hospital. I know you are."

Mr. Harlan shook his head. "Not without someone to ensure he doesn't hurt himse-" The man cut himself off, gesturing to the door. "We need to discuss this elsewhere. Cecil?"

"Yes?"

"Back to your room for the night. And speak of this to no one, understood? We don't need any patients, or employees, spreading any rumors about this."

Cecil nodded, standing and sharing a glance with Carlos before exiting the room.

"Let's go back to my office," Mr. Harlan decided, ushering his employee into the hall.

Once safe behind closed doors, but not before Mr. Harlan glared at a few nosy employees, Carlos opened his mouth. "Look, sir, I know that making Cecil an outpatient is-"

"Out of the question?"

"No-"

"A pain in my ass?"

Carlos huffed, crossing his arms. "No, Earl. It's not your responsibility. Once he's gone, he's no longer your concern. All you'd have to do is paperwork to get him out of here."

"And whose concern would he be, then? Yours?"

"Yes." Carlos gestured around him. "He doesn't belong here. Surely you can see that."

With a nod, Mr. Harlan took a seat at his desk and frowned at his employee. "So, he belongs with you? Excuse me if I feel that you're a bit biased, Carlos."

"I am. I _am_ biased, I _know_ that! I want him with me. I don't want him to be my _job_ anymore, I want him to just be… _mine_."

Raising a brow, Mr. Harlan leaned forward in his seat. "You would have to quit your job and work at home in order to provide the kind of supervision he needs. I'm beginning to question your sanity."

Carlos heaved a deep sigh and sat down across from his boss. "So am I." He shook his head after a moment, adding, "But I can't help but feel it's right. This was always my plan, anyway, sir. To work here long enough to be able to... to write a book or something. I can do that at home. I can... I can make this work."

"I think you need a little more time off-"

"No, please-"

"-to think about what to do next."

"I can't leave him here, especially not with L-"

"Lauren will be kept as far away from Cecil as I can manage, I assure you." Mr. Harlan gestured at the door. "Go home, Carlos. Get some rest. I don't want you back here for another week."

"But, I-"

"I mean it. Get out of here, and I'll give you a call when it's time for you to make a decision. But you're not taking Cecil anywhere right now, and you're not going to set foot in this hospital until this has been settled."

There was no arguing with that, Carlos knew, so he nodded and stood. With a pleading look, the psychiatrist asked, "May I stop by Cecil's room on the way out? To make sure he's okay." His boss responded with a sigh, nodding as he gestured at the door, and Carlos left.

"I'll be back in a week, Cecil," Carlos explained as he sat beside the man on his bed. "Mr. Harlan believes I need more time off, to think about what to do next. He needs to think, too, I suppose. About whether or not to... to let you leave."

Cecil widened his eyes, turning to face the other man. "I can't leave."

With a frown, Carlos asked, "Why not?"

"I'm... I've been in here longer than out there, Carlos. I can't... I don't think I can-"

" _I_ think you can," Carlos said, placing his hands on Cecil's shoulders and looking him in the eye. "And I am going to help you."

Cecil smiled, then looked away. "How are you going to do that?"

"If it all works out, you'll come and live with me, and I'll take care of you." Cecil snapped his head up at that, earning a smile from the psychiatrist. "I'll watch over you, even though I really don't think you need it. And I'll work from home, somehow. It'd... I know it'd work."

"I'd live with you?"

Carlos blinked. "Of course. What, did you think I'd get you out of here and leave you to survive on your own? Don't you think I'd want you _with_ me?"

Shrugging, Cecil looked at the floor, wringing his hands in his lap. "I don't want to be a burden."

"You're not. You never will be. And, even if you were, I'm more than willing to bear that burden, believe me." Lifting Cecil's chin, Carlos asked, "Do you believe me?"

All Cecil could do was nod, as his throat seemed to be closing up, tears forming in his eyes.

"Good." Carlos dropped his hands to his lap, sighing as he stood. "I will be back in one week, Cecil, I promise. And we'll get this sorted out."

"But what about Lauren?"

Clenching his jaw, Carlos said, "Lauren won't be coming anywhere near you." He fiddled with the keys in his pocket before turning toward the door. "You'll see me again, Cecil. Don't worry, alright?"

"Alright," Cecil agreed as the psychiatrist left him alone, walking quickly out of the room and toward the building's exit.

"I'm going to get you out of here, Cecil," Carlos said under his breath. He left the hospital with his mind already made up: Cecil was coming home next week.


	12. I Need Him

The first few days that Cecil spent without Carlos weren't _too_ bad. The patient was too busy imagining life outside of hospital walls to really feel lonely in his psychiatrist's absence. He wondered if he'd be able to make friends and participate in the community in which he'd live. He struggled with the fear of having an episode in public, and dreamed about being free to drive around town. The idea of getting a job appealed to Cecil, as well, but with that hope came the uncertainty of his abilities.

By the fifth day, Cecil Palmer had just about had it. The "what if" scenarios were keeping him up at night. The worst thought left him fearing that he'd never see Carlos again. He needed to know what to expect.

"Um, Earl?" Cecil's head peeped through the small opening of Mr. Harlan's door before his entire body followed. He closed the door behind him and said, "I need to say something."

Mr. Harlan nodded and dropped his paperwork on the desk at which he sat. "Come on and sit down-"

"No, I… I can stand. I just…" Cecil focused his gaze on a scuff mark on the floor, biting his lip.

"Cecil… I don't have an answer for you, if that's what you're here for," the other man said softly. "I cannot tell you where you'll be a few days from now."

Lifting his head, Cecil took a step closer to Mr. Harlan's desk. "But you'll… You'll let him take me, right? If that's what he chooses…"

With a sigh, the older man leaned back in his chair. "I don't know, Cecil. That's something I have to think about. This week is just as much for me as it is for Carlos."

"What can I say to convince you that going with him is best for me?"

"Do you believe that is the case? That living with your psychiatrist is the wisest, most healthy option for you right now?"

The question silenced Cecil for a moment, and he hung his head as he pondered the answer. "I don't know," he said after a minute. "I'm not a doctor. I don't know. But… I'll tell you what I _do_ know." The patient looked back up at the other man with determination in his frown. "I know that, before Carlos, I was having hallucinations several times a week. Now, I… Well, besides occasionally seeing the cat in the bathroom, I haven't seen anything weird in months. I mean, the last time I had a Night Vale episode was only a week ago, but…" Cecil had to catch his breath as he blinked rapidly at the realization that, "I was afraid of losing Carlos. That must be what triggered the episode. I hadn't had one in months, and then… I was so stressed about it that I unwittingly told Lauren everything. I just want… I just want to be with him. I hate the way I feel when I'm without him. And I'm… I'm afraid that, if he leaves, I'll lose my mind completely. It's only when he's around that I feel like I'm in _control_ of my own thoughts and actions. The only craziness I feel is…"

"Your infatuation with him," Mr. Harlan supplied, leading Cecil to blush and look down at his feet. " _That_ is what makes me hesitant to allow this, Cecil."

"Why? What's so wrong with it?" Tears gathered in Cecil's eyes as he frowned at the other man. "The one thing I feel… _normal_ about, and it's wrong?"

Mr. Harlan shook his head. "I never said it was wrong. But, if Carlos feels the same way, I worry that it is impairing his judgement."

"So, what, when I am swept up by that crazy little thing called love it's okay because I'm already crazy?" Cecil laughed bitterly and clenched his fists. "But a smart, sane person like Carlos can't allow himself to feel things like that because it impairs his judgement. Is that it?"

"Cecil…"

Upon seeing the other man tiredly wipe his forehead and glare at his desk, Cecil's fear conquered his anger. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, please don't… P-please don't keep me here," he whispered. A tear trickled down his cheek as he sucked in a deep breath. "I just want to know if you'll let me go. I need to know that you'll let me get out of here."

Mr. Harlan narrowed his eyes at the man across from him, thinning his lips as if deciding whether or not to be honest with him. "I cannot say, at this moment, whether or not I'll allow you to go with him. If you are truly set on leaving, I can start the paperwork to get you transferred to Seattle Mercy Hospital. Beyond that, I cannot guarantee that Carlos will choose to or will be _permitted_ to take you into his home."

"I… I need him, Earl. I need him."

"That, Cecil, is simply not true. If you are capable of doing anything at all, then you're capable of doing it with or without him. It's a matter of _your_ strength, not his."

"But, I-"

"I understand that you may feel as though you've found yourself in Carlos. Perhaps that is the case. He may have given you strength where you previously couldn't find it. But don't think for one moment that you _need_ him in order to keep that strength." Mr. Harlan sighed and glanced down at his hands before looking back up at the patient. "However… I can see that the… relationship between you and Carlos has grown too deep to end. It wasn't intended to become what it has, but… human emotions are complicated, and I understand that. I'm not an insensitive businessman who wants to keep you two apart, Cecil. But I need to do some thinking. I need to decide whether or not your relationship to Carlos is healthy."

Cecil bit his lip, nodding as he averted his gaze. After a moment, he looked up with a frown. "I'm sorry, I just… I don't understand why I can't decide for myself. Am I really that unable?"

Mr. Harlan opened his mouth, then released a deep breath before closing his eyes and admitting, "I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"Cecil… You've been here half your life."

"I know… Do you not think I can do it?"

"I'd like to believe you can," Mr. Harlan said, giving the patient a sympathetic smile. "But, with only the supervision of-"

"Do you not think Carlos can do it, then?" At the other man's silence, Cecil added, "What would he have to do to prove that he can?"

"I don't know, Cecil."

Cecil perked up as a thought occurred: "What if we had a trial period? You could let me live with him for a little while and then evaluate the situation later."

"I won't rule it out. Now, Cecil, please. I have work to do, and I need to think about this more before I make any decisions."

"Right. Sorry. I just… I can't stop thinking about it."

"I understand, Cecil. We'll see what Carlos has to say on Thursday and go from there."

Nodding, Cecil began to back up towards the door. "Alright. I'm sorry. Please, just… I hope you'll take what I said into consideration."

"I will, Cecil. Your opinion in all this matters, despite what you may think. It's true that you've been placed here to be cared for, but we need your input to determine what that care should look like."

"Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, guys. This fic is nearing its end. Should be finished in a few more chapters. And then there'll be an epilogue.


	13. Gone

"Earl, I've made my decision," Carlos told his mirror. He dropped his determined frown as he shook his head and began to pace the floor of his bedroom. "No, no… Less demanding." After a breath, the psychiatrist stopped in front of the mirror again and put on a pleading smile. "I'd really like to take Cecil into my home, Mr. Harlan. I think it'd be… good for… both of us." Carlos let out an exasperated sigh and all but collapsed in his desk chair, running a hand through his messy morning hair.

The buzzing of his phone pulled him out of his worries. Until he saw who was calling him. Wincing at the caller ID as he answered his cell, Carlos asked, "Yes?"

"I need you to come in a few hours early," Earl said.

"What?" Carlos frowned. "What's going on?"

"Cecil has… He's gone missing, Carlos. I need you to help us find him."

The psychiatrist nearly dropped his phone as he scrambled to get up, reaching for his coat and jamming his feet into his shoes. "Who is 'us'?"

"I've alerted the authorities."

"What happened? Why would he leave?"

There was a hesitant breath on the other end of the phone before Mr. Harlan confessed, "It's possible that he was taken."

Carlos froze in the doorway of his bedroom. "What?!" He reached a shaky hand up to turn off the light and hurried toward the front door.

"Lauren hasn't checked in today, and she isn't answering anyone's calls. Given what's happened-"

"She should have been fired immediately after that incident!" Carlos bit his tongue, shaking his head as he exited the apartment and slammed the door behind him. "A patient is at risk because _you_ neglected to-"

"I am fully aware of my mistakes, and I will pay for them," Earl acknowledged, his firm tone laden with regret. "My top priority right now is to find Cecil Palmer and bring him home."

Nodding, Carlos uttered, "So is mine." Without another word, he hung up and sprinted to his car.

 

"She did _what_?!" Carlos demanded upon discovering that Lauren had called in and explained her absence just a few minutes before he'd arrived.

"She took him for a day out, without prior approval, and lost him," Earl answered.

"How exactly does one 'lose' a grown man?"

"According to Lauren, Cecil decided he didn't want to be with her anymore and took off when she wasn't looking."

Carlos closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in effort to calm himself. "I sincerely doubt that she was telling the whole truth."

"I'm tempted to agree with you. She is talking with the police right now, but I'm afraid they can't make an arrest unless Cecil reveals that he was, in fact, _forced_ to leave."

"But she wasn't allowed to take him, even if he wanted to go. It wasn't her place."

"That's something she can be fired for, but not arrested." Earl sighed, wiping his brow before gesturing toward the hospital's exit. "People are already out looking for him, but, since you were with him the last time he was outside of this hospital, I thought perhaps you should do a search of your own."

Nodding, Carlos slipped his hand into his coat pocket and clenched his fist around his keys. "Where was the last place she was with him?"

"If she's telling the truth, just across the street."

"I'll retrace our steps from that day," Carlos decided. "Maybe he's at the park we visited, or somewhere around there."

"Start looking, then, and call if anything comes up."

"I will."

 

The bakery across the street was the first stop Carlos made. He rushed in through the door, startling a few customers and earning a disrespecting look from the man behind the counter. "Have you seen anyone in hospital attire come in here today?"

The man did nothing more than shake his head, and Carlos wasted no time in moving on. Leaving his car in the parking lot, he jogged down the street to get to the park as soon as possible. When he reached the end of the length of the park, he paused and bent over, resting his hands on his knees as he steadied his breathing. "Where are you?" he wondered aloud.

"Did you lose a patient?"

Carlos corrected his posture and spun around to meet the gaze of a kind-looking young woman. "Yes. He's about this tall, with-"

"With the rather telling patient scrubs?" the woman asked with a quirked brow. "I saw him. He was walking that way, and he didn't look too happy."

"Thank you," Carlos said, taking off in the direction the woman pointed to. _If Lauren upset him_ , the psychiatrist thought, _I'll… I'll…_ His anger wore off as he passed the coffee shop they'd stopped in that special day, and he backed up to peek inside. There was one elderly couple, but no other customers. With a frown, Carlos continued walking, shoving his hands in his coat pockets and wincing up at the sky. _Please don't rain. Not while he's out here all alone._

When he reached the theater, he asked the man at the door if he'd seen Cecil.

"Yeah, he was here. But he came back out after a few minutes and asked me if I could remind him where the nearest Arby's was. I gave him a couple bucks to get himself a burger 'cause he looked pretty down." The man shrugged, giving Carlos an apologetic smile. "If I knew he was a patient, I'da tried to keep him with me and call his hospital. I thought he was a nurse or something."

"That's alright, thank you very much for your help." Carlos all but flew back to his car, only pausing when he absolutely _had_ to catch his breath. He got into the Prius with a sigh and begged, "Please be there. Please be there."

 

It took about five minutes to get to the Arby's they'd eaten at before. Carlos released a deep breath when he saw the back of Cecil's head inside the restaurant. He pulled his cell phone out and alerted his boss that he'd found him, and that he'd bring him back soon.

"Two things," Carlos announced, startling his patient as he took a seat across from him. "First: don't ever do that again. You scared me. Second: I need you to tell me what Lauren did, so we can handle her."

Setting his sandwich down, Cecil stared wide-eyed at Carlos and attempted to hold back tears.

 _Don't do that,_ Carlos thought, holding his breath. _Please don't do that_. "Did she… Did-"

"No, she didn't do anything. Well, she kind of forced me to go with her, but… I'm okay. I'm just… I wasn't sure I'd see you again. Lauren told me that you'd been fired and that I was going to be living at the hospital forever."

Carlos blinked and sat back in his seat. "Lauren is a fucking bitch." He tried and failed not to smile when Cecil started laughing. "What?"

"I think that is the most explicit language I've ever heard you use." Cecil tilted his head back, soft giggles still escaping from his throat. "I'm sorry, that just… You sounded so upset."

"I _am_ upset. I don't like people hurting the ones I love."

Cecil quieted down at that. "Love?" he asked, his voice small.

Not breaking eye contact, Carlos nodded. "Yes."

"Oh."

"Yes… Cecil, I… I am going to tell Earl that I'd like you to live with me. Now, ultimately, it is his decision, but… after what's happened today, I am sure he'll see that you're much better off with me than in that place. Lauren will be gone, regardless, but… I want you with me. I care too much to leave you in the care of a bunch of professional assholes." Carlos shook his head and sighed. "I know there are good people there, who mean well, but, it is my opinion both professionally and personally that the hospital is no longer a good environment for you. Not even necessary, really."

Cecil beamed and nodded. "I agree."

"I think you're a little biased, Cecil," Carlos teased.

"Says the psychiatrist who just said he loves his patient."

"I cannot argue with that." Carlos gestured at the other man's tray. "How's the sandwich?"

Glancing down at his food for a moment, Cecil shrugged, then offered Carlos a bashful smile. "It tasted better when we were together."

Carlos blushed, then frowned. "How did Lauren force you to go with her?"

His smile falling, Cecil rolled his eyes. "She threatened to say I attacked her if I didn't go quietly. She said I'd be locked up for good." With a sigh, the patient nodded, "She really is a psychopath or something, huh?"

"I'm not sure what her problem is, but she definitely needs help."

"Or jail time."

"Let's not worry about her," Carlos decided, standing from his seat. "We should get back to the hospital and get everything sorted out."

Cecil nodded, standing and moving to Carlos' side. "Carlos?" he asked as they exited the restaurant.

"Yes, Cecil?"

"Are we… Am I still not supposed to be close to you?"

When Carlos glanced up at Cecil, he blushed when he caught the patient biting his lip. "Um… Y-you can… uh-"

"Can I hug you, at least?" Cecil gave Carlos a pleading look. "I _did_ think I'd never see you again. It was pretty traumatizing."

Carlos couldn't help but smile, shaking his head as he said, "You are very good at manipulating people, when you want to."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Carlos," Cecil sang, putting his hand over his chest as though he were offended. He winked at Carlos, grinning when the other man blushed deeper and looked away. "Alright," the patient said, dropping his feigned innocence, "really, Carlos, I just want to give you a hug. I've missed you."

Shifting his gaze back to Cecil, Carlos nodded. "I've missed you, too. But I don't think we should do anything just yet. Just in case things don't go as planned. I don't want to cause either of us any more pain."

Cecil frowned. "So, you'd rather us not be friendly at all, ' _just in case_ ' we never see each other again? Wouldn't it hurt more not to-"

"I love you, Cecil! And I am going to fight to bring you home, but… if it doesn't work, I will be… I don't know what I'll be. And kissing you again would just make it worse for me later."

"I… I said 'hug'," Cecil stuttered, blinking at the other man.

Carlos glanced down at his shoes. "My brain was thinking a few steps ahead."

"So, if I hugged you right now-"

"I'd probably kiss you, yes."

"Oh."

"Apparently I'm the type of person who impulsively acts on his feelings."

"That… doesn't have to be a bad thing."

Carlos blew out a deep breath and got his keys out of his pocket. "It would be in this case." He unlocked his car and got in, waiting for Cecil to join him on the passenger side before starting the engine and leaving the Arby's parking lot.

 

The car ride back to the hospital was silent, save the sound of rain that had begun to fall, and full of tension. Carlos knew Cecil was angry with him. Or heartbroken. He wasn't sure which was worse.

"If I end up stuck here…," Cecil began as they exited the vehicle, "I'll find a way to get you in for visits or something. This isn't going to be the end."

Carlos sighed, brushing the rain from his coat as he opened the hospital's back door. "We'll see what happens, Cecil. But don't get your hopes up. Just in case."

"But you'll fight for me?"

Giving him the best smile he could at the time, Carlos nodded and ushered Cecil inside. "I promise, I'll fight for us."


	14. Home

"If I had been here, as I should have been, this never would have happened." Carlos was pacing the floor of Mr. Harlan's office, wringing his hands behind his back. Sweat had gathered on his forehead and he brought a hand up to wipe it off as he turned to face his boss. "We can't allow him to stay here any longer."

Earl was standing behind his desk, palms pressed flat on the top of the surface as though he were holding himself up. He thinned his lips, closing his eyes tiredly as he nodded. "I understand you're upset-"

"I'm not merely upset, Earl. This isn't a rant, this is a decision. I'm taking Cecil home with me tonight." As soon as the words left his mouth, the psychiatrist bit his lip and averted his gaze to the floor. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… I'm…" Carlos sighed, looking up at his boss. "Please, Mr. Harlan, try to understand how… how beneficial this would be for Cecil. He is comfortable with me. I know how to take care of him, and I would make it my top priority to ensure that he is safe and well at all times. I'd-"

"It isn't your capability that I'm worried about, Carlos. It's your dependency." Shaking his head, Earl took a seat at his desk and folded his hands in front of him. "As a psychiatrist, you should be able to recognize the unhealthy bond the two of you seem to have formed."

"We are not codependent, sir. I would be…," Carlos swallowed hard, "I would be deeply saddened if I never saw Cecil again, but I was willing to transfer, before. I simply want what is best for him. And I strongly believe that, right now, what's best for him is… me."

Mr. Harlan nodded at his employee, straightening his posture. "Okay, but what about Cecil's dependency on you?"

"I'm sorry?"

"He seems to believe that he cannot function without you. He came in here the other day, begging me to allow him to live with you. Carlos, he places too high an importance on you. If, God forbid, anything should happen to you, I'm not optimistic about his ability to recover."

Carlos blinked at his boss, his frown lifting into a small smile. "I think you're seriously underestimating Cecil Palmer, sir. He has been through so much… I believe he'd be in great pain if he were to lose me somehow, but I don't doubt for one minute that he could move on from it."

"Carlos," Earl sighed, shifting in his seat, "when you kissed him and left, he had an episode. And that led Lauren to find out, and do what she did, and… now we're here."

The psychiatrist's face fell as he nodded to himself. "I shouldn't have done that."

"Done what?"

"Kissed him. Sir, I… I should have remained professional. And I'm sorry that I… that I didn't. But, what's done is done, and we have to make the best of this situation. If Cecil does better with me than without me, then why shouldn't he come live with me? How harmful could it really be to at least give it a try?"

Sighing, Earl shook his head and stood, prompting his employee to do the same. "Cecil did bring up the idea of a trial period."

"And what did you say?"

"I told him I wouldn't rule it out."

Carlos gave his boss a pleading look, gripping the back of his chair as he stood behind it. "Please, Earl. Give us a week or so, and I'll send in reports of how he's doing. If there's anything you don't like, we can always come in for a meeting and you can assess the situation for yourself." Shaking his head, the psychiatrist stared down at his feet and added, "What happened today will _never_ happen again. Not on my watch."

"Can you really devote the time necessary to supervise him?" Mr. Harlan moved from behind his desk to better face his employee, folding his arms over his chest with a frown.

Nodding eagerly, Carlos explained, "I have plans to write at least one book, and I can do that from home. There are a number of ways I can work from home, actually. I can be with him all hours of the day, if I have to." Stepping closer to his boss, Carlos gave Earl a reassuring smile and said, "I will do everything I can to ensure that Cecil receives the care he deserves, sir. I promise you that. And if anything goes wrong, I will reassess the situation. I just want what's best for him. Give me a chance to prove that I'm right about what that is, and I won't let you down."

Earl pursed his lips, glancing down before nodding and looking back at his employee with a stoic expression. "Don't let _him_ down."

 

"Cecil," Carlos said softly, tapping his fingers against the patient's doorway.

Lifting his head, Cecil glanced at the other man and slid off the edge of his bed to his feet. "Yes?"

"I have some news."

Cecil bit his lip, his heart pounding in his chest. His hands curled into fists and he nervously rubbed his thumbs back and forth against his fingers.

"Pack your things, you're coming home."

 

It was a quiet ride from the hospital to Carlos' apartment. Cecil was beaming the whole way there, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything. It was happening. He couldn't believe it. All he could do was fidget in his seat until Carlos parked and got out to open his door for him.

"You don't have to do that," Cecil said, blushing as he stepped out of the car, holding a shoebox of his belongings in his hands.

"I wanted to." Carlos smiled at the other man, hesitating before putting an arm around his shoulders and walking him up to his front door. When Cecil froze outside of the apartment, Carlos looked him in the eye and asked, "What?"

Cecil shook his head before he let out a deep breath. "Nothing, I just… I still can't believe this is happening."

"Are you happy?" Carlos seemed concerned, as though perhaps he'd made the wrong choice.

Cecil was quick to shake his head and give Carlos a sweet smile. "That's not it at all! I'm incredibly happy, Carlos! I'm just… nervous."

"I'm fairly certain that's normal in this situation," Carlos said, smiling at the other man as he unlocked the door.

"This situation isn't exactly normal," Cecil teased. His smile faded as Carlos opened the door and ushered him in, flipping on the light. He stood silently, taking in the design of his new home. The smile came back as he noted the abstract paintings of purple and gray on the wall. The granite countertops of the kitchen were also gray, and the gray hardwood flooring was covered by a deep purple rug near the silver and black kitchen table. "Well," Cecil began, turning to Carlos with a smirk, "I like the colors."

Carlos chuckled, setting his keys on the counter and shrugging his coat off. "I know, I'm pretty dull. Maybe you should help me redecorate," he said, moving to hang his coat up on a wall rack.

"No, no! Don't change a thing, it's sophisticated," Cecil said with a smile, taking a deep breath as he set his box of belongings on the counter. "I like it."

"Really?"

"Yes. It is very… _you_. And I happen to like you, Carlos. Quite a lot."

The shorter man blushed, running a hand through his damp hair before gesturing to the window, which was wide and overlooked the city from Carlos' place on the fourth floor. "Feel free to observe the view. I need to dry my hair," Carlos explained, his breath hitching when Cecil took a step toward him and quirked his brow, "because of the… rain…" Gulping, the psychiatrist shook his head and looked away. "You just got here, Cecil."

"And?"

"Maybe you should finish moving in before you start… seducing me," Carlos said, his voice cracking as he backed up into the wall.

Cecil bit back a chuckle, his eyebrows raising as he took another step closer to the other man. "Is that what I'm doing?"

"Are you implying that I'm projecting my feelings onto you, and that maybe I want this more than you do?" Carlos nodded. "Because that's probably the case."

Blinking, Cecil held his breath before he gathered himself enough to say, "I wasn't implying anything, but, Carlos… Wow." Shaking his head, he stepped closer to Carlos and whispered, "First of all, you definitely _don't_ want this more than I do. I don't think that's possible." Cecil chuckled when Carlos' eyes widened. "And second, you really shouldn't say stuff like that unless you're okay with a very happy, very deprived schizophrenic shoving you against the wall and kissing the hell out of you." Upon hearing the other man's breath hitch, Cecil smirked and back away. "But you're right. I should really get settled in before anything like _that_ happens." Turning to the window opposite Carlos, Cecil asked, "So, are you going to show me around?"

"Cecil…"

"Oh, that's right, you needed to dry your hair." Tilting his head back and forth as if searching the area, he asked, "Where is the bathroom?"

"It's here," Carlos sighed, stepping forward from the wall and gesturing across the apartment, "just before the bedroom."

Nodding, Cecil followed as Carlos led him down the hall. "Hey, where am I going to be sleeping, anyway?"

Carlos froze in his tracks. He turned to face the other man, wincing in an almost comedic manner. "I only have one room, one bed… I… I guess I just figured you'd want to sleep w-"

"Yes," Cecil practically sang, beaming. "That works for me."

"I'm shocked," Carlos said, then chuckled and shook his head.

"Sarcasm is sexy on you. You should use it more often."

Bringing a hand up to curl his fingers in his hair, Carlos looked away with a small smile and nodded to the bedroom. "Do you want to bring that box in here?"

Cecil yawned. "It's, what, ten o'clock? How about I get some sleep and save the incredibly time consuming chore of unpacking for tomorrow?"

"Alright," Carlos chuckled, walking into the bathroom. "There's a drawer in my, or… _our_ room's dresser, top right. I… I might have purchased some clothes for you a while ago. There are pajamas in there that you can put on while I dry my hair."

"Y-you did what?" Cecil's heart swelled as he bit his lip.

"I had been hoping for this to happen for a while, so… I bought you some things a few days a-"

Carlos was hushed by Cecil's lips on his own, and he gasped against the other man's mouth as he reached up to pull him closer. "I really love you, Cecil," he managed to say as he kissed him.

Pulling back with a bright smile, Cecil blushed. "I love you, too, Carlos."

"I hope that this arrangement makes you happy. I want what's best for you, Cecil. I always have. And I'm hoping that this is what's b-"

"I trust you." Cecil nodded reassuringly as he backed into the bedroom door. "I trust you," he repeated. "Now dry your hair and come to bed."

 

The first few days went smoothly for the couple. Cecil was delighted to wake up next to Carlos each morning, and found it difficult to keep from periodically blurting out, "I can't believe this is happening!"

Even though neither of them were working, they found ways to spend their time. Carlos took Cecil shopping, telling him they'd be buying him things "until half of the apartment" was his. Cecil filled up his side of the dresser with varying styles of clothing, claiming that he needed to figure out what suited him best, since he hadn't had options at the hospital. Button-down shirts and slacks seemed to be a quick favorite, but Carlos loved to see him in oversized sweaters, so, naturally, Cecil began to wear them on a regular basis.

It wasn't until three weeks had passed that Cecil had his first hallucination outside of the hospital. He'd been brushing his teeth for the morning when he noticed Khoshekh floating near the sink. Startled, he jumped back and dropped his toothbrush.

"Are you alright, Cecil?" Carlos asked, standing beside him as he wiped water off his face with a towel.

"I… the cat. The cat is in here," Cecil said, his heart sinking in his chest as he frowned at the floating feline. "I'm seeing things again."

Thinning his lips, Carlos set his towel on the counter and grabbed Cecil by the shoulders, turning him away from his hallucination. "That's alright. We thought this would happen. It's okay."

"But I was supposed to be doing better." Cecil's eyes watered as he glanced at Khoshekh out of the corner of his eye. "You can't tell Earl about this. What if he makes me come back?"

"You've already been released from the hospital, Cecil. Earl doesn't get a say anymore," Carlos reminded his boyfriend. "And, you're not in need of hospitalization, okay? You're doing great. It's just a silly cat. You haven't had an episode yet, and I don't think you will. You're keeping your brain busy, you don't have a chance to slip into 'Night Vale'. You're conquering this, Cecil."

A tear fell from Cecil's eye as he whispered, "What will happen if I have an episode?"

"I'll be here, and I'll stay until it's over, and you'll be fine. I won't let you hurt yourself, okay?" Tightening his grip on Cecil's shoulders, Carlos looked him in the eye and said, "And I won't leave you, no matter what. You won't scare me away, do you understand?"

"Y-yes." Cecil sniffed, turning back to the sink and releasing a deep breath. "He's gone."

Smiling, Carlos dropped his arms to his sides and said, "See? You're doing great, Cecil. Don't ever doubt that."

 

Exactly one month after moving in with Carlos, Cecil suggested that they celebrate by dining out. Of course, Carlos began listing different restaurants that they could visit without a reservation. Cecil stopped his boyfriend and simply told him they'd go to Arby's.

"So, I have something to tell you," Carlos began, taking a seat across from the other man at the fast food restaurant, "and I suppose now would be an appropriate time."

"Yes?"

"I might have found us a house."

Raising his brows, Cecil said, "I wasn't aware we were _searching_ for a house."

"Well, I need to start working again. I've had people tell me multiple times that I should still be a psychiatrist, so…," Carlos pulled a photo out of his jacket pocket and set it on the table in front of his boyfriend.

Dropping his sandwich, Cecil widened his eyes at the photo in front of him. "That is… beautiful."

"Yes. And it has a detached room, which could function as my office, so that I could work from home." Biting his lip, Carlos eyed his boyfriend and asked, "Would you like to check it out with me tomorrow?"

Beaming, Cecil met Carlos' gaze and nodded. "That'd be wonderful."

"Okay."

"Carlos?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

Carlos smiled back at Cecil, leaning over to kiss the other man. "I love you, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end. Except for the epilogue I'll post next month, because I can't just end a story like a normal person I have to drag it out and refuse to let go.


	15. Epilogue

- _EPILOGUE_ -

It was a refreshingly sunny day as Cecil scurried to Carlos' office. After four years of living together, he still hadn't gotten over the fact that they had such a perfect setup. The house Carlos had found for them years before had a detached room, which served as the psychiatrist's office. He'd decided to continue his practice, but to work from home.

"Up already, hm?" Cecil chirped when he got to the doorway, quirking a brow.

Looking up from his desk with a smile, Carlos nodded. "I'm seeing a client at seven, remember?"

"I _did_ remember," Cecil began, gesturing behind him with his thumb, "and I made you breakfast. You've got half an hour." Turning on his heels, the taller man moved to exit the room, saying, "And I don't care if you had something boring like oatmeal already. You'll eat my pancakes and you'll like them."

"I've never complained about your pancakes, Cecil," Carlos called from his desk, shaking his head as a grin crept onto his face. He followed his boyfriend out of his office and into the kitchen. "How's the blog?" he asked once he took a seat at the table.

Cecil retrieved their plates from the counter and brought them to the table as he shook his head. "I haven't been able to update in a while. The book deal is top priority, you know. I just don't have the time to write both things."

"Well," Carlos said as he took a sip of water, "have you considered turning your blog into a podcast? Then you could just say whatever you need to say without worrying about typing it out."

"I'll give it some thought," Cecil said after a moment. "I never thought my life would be interesting enough to be a book, y'know?" Sighing, the man smiled at his boyfriend. "I'm totally excited to be writing my autobiography, but… I just don't think I'm that interesting. These people actually think it'll be a success!"

"I'd have to agree with them, Cecil. I think your life has been pretty interesting so far."

"It doesn't make you uncomfortable at all, though? Our story being told to hundreds of people?"

"Don't underestimate it, Cecil. I'd say thousands, at least. And, no, it doesn't bother me," Carlos said, pausing to lean over and give his boyfriend a peck on the lips. "Your life can inspire people. And I'm part of that life now, so, I won't protest to being included in the book."

"But you'd rather stay out of it?"

"No, no! I'm _happy_ to be in it. Just...," Carlos bit his lip, "I might need to proofread it."

Chuckling, Cecil straightened his posture and nodded. "I won't make you look bad, Carlos. I don't even think that's possible."

"I'm more worried that you'd give a little bit... too much... information."

"Such as?"

"Just don't... include anything that happens in that room," Carlos said, blushing as he nodded toward their bedroom door and then looked down.

Cecil blinked at Carlos for a moment before he erupted with laughter. When Carlos' blush deepened, the taller man tried to gather himself. "I'm sorry, Carlos, I...," he chuckled. "I won't write anything like that. I save those stories for my blog."

Snapping his gaze up, Carlos widened his eyes. "I... You said your blog was about dealing with psych-"

"I'm teasing you, dear," Cecil said, pointing to his boyfriend's plate with his fork. "Eat your breakfast."

Carlos gave Cecil an unimpressed frown before he shook his head, trying to hide his smile. "Rude."

"So, are we going to be able to make it to the hospital this week?" Cecil asked after a moment. He'd been making irregular visits ever since he got out, eager to see the people he'd spent most of his life with. "Dana said they're having a birthday party for John on Thursday."

Carlos glanced up before nodding at the other man. "I think so. I have an appointment with a client at two, but other than that, I'm free."

"Great!" Cecil beamed as he stood to take his plate to the sink. "Oh, and I saw Khoshekh again this morning," he mentioned calmly.

"Yes... That isn't something to be worried about," Carlos said, standing and picking up his plate.

"I know," Cecil sang, "I'm just letting you know."

Sighing, Carlos shook his head and moved to his boyfriend's side. "Cecil."

Cecil's smile dropped as he shrugged. "It's just been a few months, it was weird. Unexpected."

"I know. Don't worry about it." With a smile, Carlos said, "Hey, how about we go out for dinner tonight?"

"Oh?" Cecil took Carlos' plate from his hand and set it in the sink, turning on the faucet. "Where?"

Carlos wrapped his arms around his boyfriend as Cecil began rinsing the dishes. "I'd say Arby's, but that's starting to get old."

Cecil nodded with a chuckle. "It is, isn't it? Still, it's our special place."

"It is. But, maybe we should try to get in somewhere a bit... fancier."

Shrugging, Cecil shut off the water and put the dishes in the washer. "I'm fine with Arby's if you are."

"We're terrible," Carlos said with a laugh. "We've probably given that particular restaurant more business over the past few years than all the other customers combined."

"That made no mathematical sense, Science Man," Cecil teased, turning to pull Carlos into a hug.

"Whatever," Carlos chuckled, leaning up to give Cecil a kiss. "I need to get back to my office."

"Alright. I'll be staring at a computer screen, attempting to write my book."

"Why don't you just work on a title, for today?" Carlos suggested, backing out of his boyfriend's arms. "I love you. See you in a couple hours."

"Love you, too."

As he made his way to his desk in their bedroom, Cecil mumbled to himself, "Title... title..." He pondered for a bit as he took a seat, glancing around the room for ideas. After about five minutes of typing, deleting, and periodically keyboard smashing, he sighed and looked down at his hands. A grin crept onto his face as he nodded, looking up at the screen. He said the working title of his new book aloud as he typed, "Welcome to Night Vale."


End file.
